
Class I 

Book— L_ 



i& 



AUTO-BIOGRAPHICAL NARRATIONS, 
•fee. &c. 



c; 



LONDON : 

RICHARD BARRETT, PRINTER, 

13. MARK LANE, 



AUTO-BIOGRAPHICAL NARRATIONS 



CONVINCEMENT 



AND OTHER 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 



SAMUEL CRISP, MARGARET LUCAS, 

ELIZABETH WEBB, and 

EVAN BEYAN, FREDERICK SMITH. 

G _ , \ 

" THE LAW OF THE LOKD IS PERFECT, COHVERSHfg THE 
SOUL : THE TESTIMONY OE THE LORD IS PURE, MAKING 

ivise the simple."— Psalm xix. ". 




LONDON: 

CHARLES GILPIN, 5, BISHOPSGATE WITHOUT. 

1848. 






ADVERTISEMENT. 



The subjects of the following Narrations furnish 
a few of the numerous instances, in which sincere, 
seeking individuals, not previously connected with 
the religious Society of Friends, have been brought 
to see, with indubitable clearness, that the prin- 
ciples of that Society embrace the Truth as it is 
in Jesus. 

Under this conviction, and for the sake of obtain- 
ing a feeding-place with this portion of the flock 
of Christ, it has been the lot of many such persons 
to "endure a great fight of afflictions :"— they have 
been constrained to press forward through strong, 
and often protracted opposition ; — they have been 
content to make costly sacrifices : — and as they 
have continued faithful to the measure of light 
and grace received, have been given largely to 
experience " joy and peace in believing/' 

These considerations ought surely to induce 
those who hold the privilege of membership in 
this Society by birth, highly to estimate it ; also 



VI ADVERTISEMENT. 

to seek, through faithfulness, to retain, with the 
profession, the life and virtue of the Truth. And 
how incumbent is it on all who have been made 
partakers of this heavenly treasure, to be found in 
the exercise of that watchful care which is implied 
in the admonition of the apostle : — " Look to 
yourselves, that we lose not those things which 
we have wrought, but that we receive a full 
reward/' — 2 John 8. 

Thomas Chalk. 



Kingston on Thames , 
Fifth Month, 1848. 



CONTENTS. 



LETTERS, &c, OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

PAGE, 

Memoir of Samuel Crisp , 3 

Letter I 11 

Letter II 21 

Letter III ".'. 29 

A Plea for the Truth, and an earnest Exhortation to he 

found walking therein 31 

On Divine Worship, Grospel Ministry and the true Church 36 
A Warning given to the present generation to consider 
their ways ; wherein they are reminded of the late 

dreadful Tempest of Wind 40 

LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB, 

To Anthony William Bcehm 51 

His Answer thereto 80 

MEMOIR OF EVAN BEY AN, 
With his Letter to a Friend on his Convincement 85 

ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT AND CALL 

TO THE MINISTRY OF MARGARET LUCAS 101 

MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH 175 

His Letter to the Children and Youth of the Society of 

Friends - 251 

His Letter to Parents and others who have the care of 

Youth in the Society of Friends 260 



LETTERS 



EXTRACTS FROM A TREATISE 



WRITTEN BY 



SAMUEL CRISP; 



TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 



A SHORT MEMOIR OF HIS LIFE. 



PROVE ALL THINGS ; HOLD FAST THAT WHICH 13 
GOOD. — 1 Thess. V. 21. 



MEMOIR OF SAMUEL CRISP. 



Samuel Crisp, previous to his joining the Society 
of Friends, resided in Norfolk. He was educated at 
college, and took the order of deacon in the church 
of England (so called) ; after which he officiated as 
a parish curate, also for a very short time, as chap- 
lain in a private family. 

In the year 1700, being then resident in London, 
and about thirty years of age, he was convinced of 
the truth, as professed by Friends, in the manner 
described in his first Letter. Soon afterwards he was 
engaged as an assistant to Richard Scoryer, a Friend 
who kept a large boarding-school at Wandsworth. 
In this situation he did not remain long, and subse- 
quently opened a school on his own account, at Step- 
ney, near London. 

His adoption of the views and principles of Friends, 
drew on him, not only remonstrances, but also con- 
tumely and slander. On his first showing an inclina- 
tion to unite with them, an acquaintance of his, a 
priest of the church of England, who was anxious to 
prevent his so doing, proposed to introduce him to a 
person, who, he said, was so well acquainted with 
their writings, that he did not doubt of his receiving 
satisfaction. Samuel Crisp, desirous of being rightly 
informed, and of exercising due consideration before 

b 2 



4 MEMOIR OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

taking so important a step, accepted the offer. He 
was accordingly taken to the proposed instructor, who 
proved to be no other than Charles Lesly, the writer 
of that notorious work called The Snake in the Grass* 
It seems this person succeeded in putting him to a 
stand for a very short time ; but he soon discovered 
the fallacy of his arguments and insinuations, and 
forthwith joined in communion with the people to 
whom he had felt attracted — and this, as he feelingly 
acknowledged, from " a sincere love of the Truth, and 
pure regard to his own soul." Soon after this inter- 
view, two Letters were addressed to him by Lesly, to 
the first of which he sent a Reply, accompanied with 
a copy of a Paper written by Eichard Scoryer, prov- 
ing the falsehood of an assertion contained in The 
Snake, that the Bible was never read in his school . 
This correspondence, (with a Preface, to which the 
title belongs rather than to the Letters,) was published 
in the following year (1701), under the title of The 
present State of Quakerism in England. Upon occa- 
sion of the Relapse of Samuel Crisp to Quakerism. 

These Letters to Samuel Crisp are, as might be ex- 
pected, of much the same character with the writer's 
former scurrilous work, both as regards the manner 
in which the doctrines of Friends are vilified, and 
S. C/s conduct relative to his convincement, is ma- 
ligned. 

Some time afterwards, Samuel Crisp published a 
refutation in detail, of the charges preferred against 

* This book, which came out in the year 1696, was published 
anonymously : the author, who was a " non-juring parson," was 
employed by some of the clergy, in this way to render Friends and 
their principles odious to the world. His misrepresentations were 
disproved, and his crafty imposture manifested, by Joseph Wyeth 
and George Whitehead, in a book, entitled, A Switch for the 
Snahe. 



MEMOIR OF SAMUEL CRISP. O 

him by this opponent, as fickleness, enthusiasm, &c., 
with an able defence of some of the principles of 
Friends, in a Treatise of three-and-a-half sheets, 12mo, 
entitled A Libeller exposed ; being a Vindication of the 
people called Quakers, against the malicious attempts 
and foul aspersions of a booh entitled, u The Present 
State of Quakerism in England" 

This little work, however the circumstance which 
called it forth is to be repudiated, furnishes interest- 
ing information, and a clear exposition of some im- 
portant points of doctrine ; various extracts from it, 
are therefore given in the present compilation. From 
this source we obtain the following particulars and 
remarks, relative to Samuel Crisp's withdrawing from 
the communion of the established church, and the 
stations he occupied therein. u As to my leaving the 
church of England, God is my witness I did it in 
pure obedience to the convictions of my own mind ; 
and the peace which I have often felt returned into 
my bosom, is more than I can express : I have had 
a great and abundant reward from the Lord for what 
I have done in this matter. 

" I desire to fear God, and am heartily sorry that 
I have spent so much time in the vanities and im- 
pertinencies of this sinful world j taking things upon 
trust, swayed by temporal interests, and following 
the prejudices of my education. It is true I was in 
the order only of deacon, and I bless God that I went 
no farther in such orders. Then I pretended to preach, 
and could make shift to patch together an hour's 
discourse, with something that I got from others, and 
something that I had read from the Bible, filling up 
the vacancy with the dark conceivings of my own 
brain — and this was my gospel. I could talk much 
of Christ ; and heaven and hell, and extolled the 



6 MEMOIR OF SAMUEL CRI&P. 

Scriptures highly, which were nevertheless a sealed 
book to me ; for though I read them often, both in 
public and private, yet my mind being outward, and 
not waiting in silence upon that Holy Spirit that 
gave them forth, I knew not the Scriptures nor the 
power of God : so then the power of death and dark- 
ness ruled in me. I had cure of souls, (as they call 
it,) but was a physician of no value. I knew, in- 
deed, that I had served my time at the university, 
as apprentices do to a trade ; and that I had passed 
the examination and the ceremony of ordination — and 
I thought this would do ; but as for any immediate 
call or appointment of God, to the work of the minis- 
try, I knew nothing of it. I had the care of two 
parishes committed to me, by the bishop of the dio- 
cese, but had never any call from God to go and 
preach to that people. So I was like those prophets 
Jeremiah speaks of, chap, xxiii. 21, who ran before 
they were sent, and therefore they could not profit 
the people at all. I was a superstitious bigot — a 
poor dark creature — a hireling — a blind leader of the 
blind. I expected thirty pounds a year for preach- 
ing — that was my wages ; and if any should question 
my commission, I knew I had a little piece of paper 
to shew, which I called my orders, if that would 
satisfy them ; so brutish was I in my understanding. 
And yet God did not leave himself without a witness; 
for in the midst of all this darkness and ignorance, 
I can truly say, there was a measure of sincerity in 
me ; and good desires, and earnest cries and breath- 
ings were oftentimes raised in me, that I might once 
know the Lord and serve him, and see his glory, and 
witness peace and joy, and health and rest, and salva- 
tion to my soul, before I went off the stage of this 
world ; that so I might live with him in that world 



MEMOIR OF SAMUEL CRISP. 7 

which never shall have an end, when time here shall 
be no more. And God was not unmindful of the 
travail of his own seed in that day ; for blessed be 
his name, he heard the groanings of it under a great 
deal of rubbish, and he revealed his Son in me, at 
the brightness of whose appearance the clouds are 
scattered and shadows flee away. May the sense of 
his goodness and tender mercy never depart from me, 
so long as I have an hour to live, or a minute to 
breathe in this world. Even to the same God that had 
compassion on Israel of old, when they sojourned m 
a strange land, where the Egyptians and Pharaoh 
oppressed them with much cruel and hard bondage — 
to that God I ascribe my deliverance, who alone is 
worthy to be praised, magnified and adored by all 
who make mention of his name. He remembered us 
when we were in trouble, and anguish, and deep 
affliction ; being scattered upon the dark and barren 
mountains, as sheep without a shepherd ; wandering 
from mountain to hill, from one form and empty 
profession of religion to another ; even there did he 
find us, and his eye pitied us, and he said to the dry 
bones, Live ; for his mercy endureth for ever." 

His office as chaplain, (in which it seems he con- 
tinued but ten days), proved particularly irksome 
and unsatisfactory ; and it is probable that the cir- 
cumstances connected with it, strengthened, in no 
small degree, his desire to be disengaged from the 
forms and ceremonies in which he had been educated. 
On alluding to his situation in that capacity, he 
states, that he has had to wait three or four hours at 
a time, to know when the family would go to prayers ; 
and that his task was not finished when the prayers 
were ended, as he was expected to wait, to be ready 
when called for, in an adjoining room, where servants 



8 MEMOIR OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

and others were often passing, and company coming- 
in ; and that he was sometimes thus kept in waiting, 
from morning till night. As he had occasion for some 
employment by which to procure a livelihood, such in- 
conveniencies as these would probably have been borne 
till an appointment less wearisome presented, could 
he have continued here, and at the same time have 
enjoyed peace of mind ; but, " I left my chaplain's 
place," he writes, u purely upon a foot of conscience; 
the lustre of mamyrwn* could not keep me there; 
and this was some months before I came amongst the 
people called Quakers, or had the least thoughts that 
way. I lived some time privately in London, in- 
quiring after the best things. There was then a 
great noise about the Quakers, and George Keith 
(who was just then ordained deacon) was the talk of 
the town. So meeting one day with Robert Barclay's 
works, in a bookseller's shop, and understanding that 

* S. C. in his Reply to Lesly r s first Letter, tad stated, that his 
" way being cleared up and the Truth shining out again in great 
lustre, he found a necessity to return into the strait and narrow 
path, where he hoped to continue," &c. His opponent taunt- 
ingly alludes to this expression by saying, " At last we heard you 
were established as usher to the grand Quaker-school at Wands- 
worth, and you told us your lustre was come ! I will not be so 
uncharitable as to suppose it was the lustre of. mammon, for the 
sake of sucha provision ; you being destitute before." 

It is pleasant to turn from such a prejudiced, ill-conditioned 
judge, to one whose testimony savours of truth and love. Samuel 
Bownas, in an account of a journey which he took in the early 
part of the year 1702, from London to the west of England, on 
religious service, says, he " had in company a young man that 
had been bred at college, his name was Samuel Crisp- — a pretty, 
meek- spirited youth, and rightly convinced :" and a short time 
afterwards, when engaged in like manner in Hertfordshire, he 
speaks of him as " a sweet companion, having received the know- 
ledge^ the truth the right way."— See Life of Samuel £evmas^ 



MEMOIR OF SAMUEL CRISP. 9 

he was a Quaker, and an eminent writer amongst 
them, I had a great desire to read him ; which I did 
in the fear of God, and with an humble mind ; and 
thereby was so fully convinced of the truth of the 
Quakers' principles, (notwithstanding the clamour of 
the world against them), that from that day to this, 
I have never once communicated in the church of 
England. And though I was then destitute of any 
outward business, yet I did not doubt but the Lord 
would some way provide me a competent subsistence 
in this world, which was all I desired — and this 
accordingly came to pass ; for within a few weeks I 
was recommended to Wandsworth school, Richard 
Scoryer being then in want of an usher. But, just 
upon my convincement, two things offered to draw 
me back again into the world : one was, to read 
prayers in an apothecary's house in Huntingdon — ■ 
and the other, to be chaplain to one called the Lady 
Molesworth, as I remember. Here was some prospect 
of preferment, and that before I heard of Wandsworth 
school, or knew any thing of it. So that if 1 had 
been so greedy of mammon as our author's charity 
would seem to represent me, I might have smothered 
my convictions and turned back into Egypt again. 
But blessed be God, who preserved me in that day, 
and kept me low before him ! I trusted to his kind 
providence, who knew the sincerity of my heart ; 
and I chose rather to be poor and destitute with a 
good conscience, than to have all the riches and 
honours of the world without it. I had found the 
pearl of great price, and I knew I must sell all to 
purchase it. Truth was my greatest treasure ; that 
was my chiefest joy : ' For,' as the apostle says, ' our 
rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that 
in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly 



10 MEMOIR OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our 
conversation in the world.' " 

This brief Memoir of Samuel Crisp, considered in 
connexion with the sincerity, humility, and genuine 
piety which his Letters, &c, exhibit, shews that he 
had begun to build on the one sure Foundation, and 
that he bade fair to become a truly serviceable mem- 
ber in the church. But any hopes of this kind that 
had been cherished by his contemporary friends, were 
only realized to a very limited extent ; inasmuch as 
it pleased the All- wise Disposer of events to cut short 
the thread of his life. He died of the small-pox, at 
Stepney aforesaid, on the 7th of the Fourth Month, 
1704, aged 34 years. 



LETTEES OF SAMUEL CEISP. 



[The three following Letters of Samuel Crisp were 
written about the year 1702 ; the first and second on 
the occasion of his withdrawing from the church of 
England (so called) to join the Society of Friends, 
These have passed through several editions together, 
as a pamphlet. The third Letter, a copy of which has 
been kindly transmitted by a Friend, to the Editor of 
the present volume, and which, it will be seen, contains 
the expression of his religious feelings to a fellow-pro- 
fessor of the Truth, is now printed for the first time : 
this, although very short, is not without its value, 
showing, as it does, the writer's conviction, that his 
having so far yielded to apprehended duty, as to 
unite in religious fellowship with Friends, furnished 
no ground for relaxing in watchfulness, and diligence 
in the christian warfare.] 

Letter I. 

I received a letter from thee, the week before 
last, which was sent by thy uncle Bolton : there were 
a great many kind expressions in it, and in thy 
sister Clopton's likewise. I acknowledge myself much 
obliged to you both, and to the whole family, for 
many repeated kindnesses ; and if my school had not 
engrossed so much of my time, I would have taken 
opportunity to answer my dear friend's letter now, 
and upon that account my delay will be the more 
excusable. 



12 LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

The news thou hast heard of my late change is 
really true — I cannot conceal it, for it is what I glory 
in— neither was it any prospect of temporal advantage 
that induced me to it, but a sincere love to the truth, 
and pure regard to my own soul. Neither can I be 
sufficiently thankful to God, that he hath let me live 
to this glorious day, and not cut me off in the midst 
of my sins and provocations against him. He is long- 
suffering to us-ward, not willing that any should 
perish, but that all should come to repentance. He 
hath brought me off from the forms and shadows of 
religion, and let me see, in a more illustrious man- 
ner, what is the life and substance of it, as he found me 
in some degree faithful to that measure of light and 
knowledge he had bestowed on me, whilst I was in the 
communion of the church of England : therefore he 
was pleased of late, as I humbly waited upon him, to 
make know r n to me greater and deeper mysteries of 
his kingdom. And I can truly say, that I find by 
daily experience, as I keep low and retired unto that 
pure gift which he hath planted within me, things 
are more and more cleared up to me, and the truth 
shines and prevails greatly over the kingdom of dark- 
ness ; and if I should now turn my back upon such 
manifestations as these, and entangle myself again 
with the yoke of bondage, surely I should grieve the 
Holy Spirit, so that he might justly withdraw his 
kind operations, and never return more to assist and 
comfort me. For God is not mocked : religion is a 
very serious and weighty thing : repentance and sal- 
vation are not to be trifled with ; nor is turning to 
God to be put off till our own time, leisure, or conve- 
nience : but we must love and cherish the least ap- 
pearance of Christ, not slighting or despising the day 
of small things, but embrace the first opportunity of 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 13 

following Christ in any of his commands. When 
he speaks, it is with such force and authority, that 
we cannot stand to cavil, dispute, or ask questions : 
for unless we will be so obstinate as to shut our eyes 
against the sun, we must needs confess to the truth of 
his doctrine, and presently strike in with it. And, 
therefore, when for several weeks I had lived more 
privately and retiredly in London, than was usual, 
fasting tw r ice or thrice in a week, and sometimes more, 
spending my time in reading the Scriptures and in 
prayer to God, this was a good preparation of my 
mind to receive the truth w r hich he was then about to 
make known to me. I lamented the errors of my past 
life, and was desirous to attain a more excellent de- 
gree of holiness than I had discovered in the church 
of England. In this religious retirement God knew 
the breathings of my soul, how sincere I was, and 
resigned to him when alone. I wanted him to set me 
free, and to speak peace and comfort to my soul, 
which was grieved and wearied with the burden of my 
sin : for though I had strictly conformed myself to 
the orders and ceremonies of the church of England, 
and had kept myself from running into any great 
or scandalous enormities, (the fear of the Almighty 
preserving me), yet still I had not that rest and 
satisfaction in myself which I desired, and greatly 
longed for. I found when I had examined my state 
and condition God-ward, that things were not right 
wdth me. 

As for a sober and plausible conversation in the eye 
of the w r orld, I knew that was a very easy attain- 
ment : a good natural temper, with the advantage of 
a liberal education, will. quickly furnish a man with 
abilities for that ; so that he shall be looked upon as 
a saint, and very spiritual, when perhaps in chains of 



14 LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

darkness, in the gall of bitterness, and in the very 
bond of iniquity. If this sort of righteousness would 
have done, perhaps I might make as fair pretensions 
that way as some others ; but, alas ! I quickly saw 
the emptiness and unsatisfactoriness of those things : 
this is a covering that will not protect or hide us from 
the wrath of the Almighty, when he comes to judg- 
ment. It is not a mans natural temper, nor his educa- 
tion, that makes him a good christian : this is not the 
righteousness the gospel calls for, nor is this the "truth 
in the inward parts" which God requires. The heart 
and affections must be cleansed and purified before we 
can be acceptable to God ; therefore it was death to me 
to think of taking up my rest in a formal pretence of 
holiness, wherein yet I saw to my grief, abundance of 
people wrapped themselves, and slept securely and 
quietly, dreaming of the felicity of paradise, as if 
heaven were now their own, and they needed not 
trouble themselves any more about religion. I could 
not entertain so dangerous an opinion as this; for 
then I should be tempted to take up my rest by the 
way, whilst I was travelling towards the promised 
land. 

I think I made a little progress in a holy life, and 
through God's assistance I weakened some of my 
spiritual enemies, whilst I lived in the communion of 
the national church. I thank my God, I can truly 
say, whilst I used those prayers, I did it with zeal 
and sincerity, in his fear and dread : but still I ceased 
not my earnest supplication to him in private, that 
he would show me something more excellent ; that I 
might get a complete victory over all my lusts and 
passions, and might perfect righteousness before him. 
For I found a great many sins and weaknesses daily 
attending me ; and though I made frequent resolu- 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 15 

tions to forsake those sins, yet still the temptation 
was too strong for me ; so that I had often cause to 
complain with the apostle, in the bitterness of my 
soul, " wretched man that I am 1 who shall deliver 
me from the body of this death V Who shall set me 
free, and give me strength to triumph over sin, the 
world, and the devil ; that I may in every thing please 
God, and there may not be the least thought, word 
or motion, gesture or action, but what is exactly 
agreeable to his most holy will, as if I saw him stand- 
ing before me, and as if I were to be judged by him 
for the thought of my heart next moment ? divine 
life ! seraphic soul ! that I could always stand 
here ! for here is no reflection, no sorrow, no repent- 
ance ; but at God's right hand there is perfect peace 
and a river of unspeakable joy. that we might 
imitate the life of Jesus, and be thoroughly furnished 
unto every good word and work ! This was the fre- 
quent breathing of my soul to God when I was in the 
country, but more especially after I had left my new 
preferment of a chaplain, and took private lodgings 
in London. In this retirement I hope I may say 
without boasting, I was very devout and religious, 
and found great comfort and refreshment in it from 
the Lord, who let me see the beauty of holiness : the 
sweetness that arises from an humbled, mortified life, 
was then very pleasant to my taste, and I rejoiced 
in it more than in all the delights and pleasures of 
the world. 

And now it pleased God to show me, that if I 
would indeed live strictly and holily as becomes the 
gospel, then I must leave the communion of the 
church of England ; but I knew not yet which way to 
determine myself, nor to what body of men I should 
join, who were more orthodox and more regular in 



16 LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP, 

their lives. As for the Quakers (so called), I was so 
great a stranger to them, that I had never read any 
of their books, nor do I remember that ever I con- 
versed with any one man of that communion in my 
whole life. I think there was one in Foxly, whilst I 
was curate there ; but I never saw the man, though 
I went several times to his house on purpose to talk 
with him, and to bring him off from his mad and 
wild enthusiasm, as I then ignorantly thought it to 
be. As for that way, I knew it was everywhere 
spoken against : he that had a mind to appear more 
witty and ingenious than the rest, would choose this 
for the subject of his profane jests and drollery ; with 
this he makes sport, and diverts the company, for a 
Quaker is but another name for a fool or a madman, 
and was scarcely ever mentioned but with scorn and 
contempt. As for drollery, I confess I was never any 
great friend to it ; but indeed, if all was true that 
was laid to the Quakers' charge, I thought they were 
some of the worst people that ever appeared in the 
world, and wondered with what face they could call 
themselves christians, since I was told they denied 
the fundamental articles of the holy faith, for which I 
ever bore the highest veneration and esteem. And, 
notwithstanding, I had always lived at the greatest 
distance from that people, and was very zealous in the 
worship of the church of England, and upon all occa- 
sions would speak very honourably of it, moreover 
was content to suffer some few inconveniences upon 
that account, (as thou very well knowest), yet my 
father still looked upon me as inclining to the 
Quakers ; and some years ago signified to a friend, he 
was afraid I would become an enthusiast : and whilst 
at Bungan school, he sent me two books to read that 
were written against the Quakers, one of which was 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 17 

John Faldo's, who hath been sufficiently exposed for 
it by William Penn. 

Whilst I lived in London, in that private, retired 
manner I was just now speaking of, walking very 
humbly in the sight of God, and having opportunity 
to reflect upon my past life, as I had occasion to be 
one day at a bookseller's shop, I happened to cast my 
eye on Barclay's works ; and having heard in the 
country, that he was a man of great account amongst 
the Quakers, I had a mind to see what their principles 
were, and what defence they could make for them- 
selves ; for sure, thought I, these people are not so 
silly and ridiculous, nor maintainers of such horrid 
opinions, as the author of The Snake and some others 
would make us believe. I took Barclay home with 
me, and I read him through in a week's time, save a 
little treatise at the end, which finding to be very 
philosophical, I omitted ; but, however, I soon read 
enough to convince me of my own blindness and 
ignorance in the things of God, There I found a 
light to break in upon my mind, which did mightily 
refresh and comfort me in that poor, low, and humbled 
state in which I then was ; for indeed I was then, 
and had been for a considerable time before, very 
hungry and thirsty after righteousness ; and therefore 
I received the truth with all readiness of mind. It 
was like balm to my soul, and as showers of rain to 
the thirsty earth, which is parched with heat and 
drought. This author laid things down so plainly, 
and proved them with such ingenuity and dexterity 
of learning, and opened the Scriptures so clearly to 
me, that without standing to cavil, dispute, raise 
argument or objection, or consulting with flesh and 
blood, I presently resigned myself to God ; and weep- 
ing for joy that I had found so great a treasure, I 

c 



18 LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

often thanked him with tears in my eyes for so kind 
a visitation of his love, that he was graciously pleased 
to look towards me when my soul cried after him. 
So, though before I was in great doubt and trouble of 
mind, not knowing which way to determine myself, 
yet now the sun breaking out so powerfully upon me, 
the clouds were scattered. I was now fully satisfied 
in my own mind which way I ought to go, and to 
w r hat body of people I should join myself. 

So I immediately left the communion of the church 
of England, and went to Gracechureh Street Meeting. 
After I had read Barclay, I read some other books of 
that kind, among which was an excellent piece, though 
in a small volume, called No Cross, No Grown. Thus 
I continued reading and frequenting meetings for 
several weeks together, but did not let any one soul 
know what I was about. The first man I conversed 
with was George Whitehead ; and this was several 
weeks after I began to read Barclay, and frequent 
[Friends'] meetings. By him I was introduced into 
more acquaintance ; and still the farther I went, the 
more I liked their plainness, and the decency and 
simplicity of their conversation. They do not use 
the ceremonies and salutations of the church of 
England, but shake hands freely, and converse toge- 
ther as brothers and sisters, that are sprung of the 
same royal seed, and made kings and priests unto 
God. the love, the sweetness and tenderness of 
affection I have seen among this people ! " By this," 
says Christ, " shall all men know that ye are my 
disciples, if ye have love one to another." " Put on 
therefore," says the apostle, " (as the elect of God, 
holy and beloved) bowels of mercy, kindness, humble- 
ness of mind, meekness, long-suffering." 

Thus, my dear friend, I have given thee an account 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 19 

of my proceeding on this affair. As to my bodily 
state, if thou desirest to know what it is, I may 
acquaint thee that I have my health as well as ever, 
and I bless God I have food and raiment sufficient 
for me, so that I want no outward thing ; and I have 
the necessities and conveniencies of life liberally : 
let us not burden ourselves with taking care for the 
vanities and superfluities of it. Let us possess our 
vessels in sanctification and honour : and as we bring 
our minds into perfect subjection to the whole will of 
God, so let us bring our bodies to the most simple and 
natural way of living • being content with the fewest 
things ; never studying to gratify our wanton appe- 
tites, nor to follow the customs and humours of men, 
but how we may so contract our earthly cares and 
pleasures, that we may bring most glory to God, most 
health and peace to our own souls, and do most 
service to the truth. And if this be our aim, certainly 
a very small portion of the things of this world will 
suffice us. Seeing we are christians, we should there- 
fore earnestly pursue those things w T hich bring us 
nearest to God, and which are most perfective of 
human nature. For what is more than a competency, 
seems to be a burden to a generous, philosophical soul, 
which would breathe in a pure vehicle, that so it may 
have a quick sense and relish of all blessings, both of 
the superior and inferior worlds. 

Thou knowest, my dear friend, that religion is a 
very serious thing ; repentance is a great work, 
and one precious immortal soul is of more worth than 
ten thousand perishing worlds, with all their pomp 
and glory; therefore let us take courage, and be 
valiant for the truth upon the earth— let us not con- 
tent ourselves with a name and profession of godliness 
— let us come to the life and power of it — let us not 

c 2 



20 LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

despond of getting the victory. We have a little 
strength for God : let us be faithful to him and he 
will give us more strength, so that we shall see the 
enemy of our peace fall before us, and nothing shall 
be impossible unto us. I say, my friend, let us be 
faithful to that measure of light and knowledge 
which God has given us, to be profited and edified by 
it in a spiritual life ; and as God sees we are diligent 
and faithful to work with the strength we have, he 
will more and more enlighten us, so that we shall see 
to the end of those forms and shadows of religion 
wherein we had formerly lived. But if he sees we 
are about to take up our rest in those shadows, that 
we grow cold and indifferent in the pursuit of holiness, 
running out into notions and speculations, and have 
more mind to dispute, and to make a shew of learning 
and subtlety, than to lead a holy and devout life, 
then it is just with God to leave us in a carnal and 
polluted state ; to continue yet but in the outward 
court, where we may please ourselves with beholding 
the beauty and ornaments of a worldly sanctuary, 
and never witness the veil being taken away, and that 
we are brought by the blood of Jesus into the holiest 
of all, where alone there is true peace with God, and 
rest to the weary soul. I could say much upon this 
head, if time or leisure would give leave. 

As for a particular answer to thy letter, I have not 
time now to give it ; and for the present let this 
general answer suffice : and if thou wilt consider 
things in their pure abstracted nature, and not suffer 
the prejudice of education to sway thee, but in fear 
and humility wilt search out the truth for thyself, 
thou wilt find that there needs no other answer to 
thy letter than what I have already given. For by 
waiting upon God, and diligently seeking him, thou 



LETTERS OF SAMtJEL CRISP. 21 

wilt find an answer to it in thy own bosom ; and this 
will be much more full, clear, and satisfactory than I, 
or any other man living can pretend to give thee, or 
any other friend who hath lovingly written to me ; for 
whom I desire, with all the sincere-hearted in the 
church of England, that they may come to witness 
the almighty power of God, to save and redeem them 
from every yoke : and that they may clearly see to 
the end of those things which are abolished, and come 
to the enjoyment of spiritual and heavenly things 
themselves, is the daily prayer and deep travail of 
my soul, God knoweth. Till I can be more particular, 
if thou please thou mayst communicate this to them, 
and let them know that I am well, and thank them 
for their kind letters. Let us remember to pray for 
one another with all fervency, that we may stand 
perfect in the whole wall of God. Amen, saith my 
soul. I am thy most affectionate friend and servant 
in Jesus, 

Samuel Crisp. 

Letter II. 

My dear Friend, 
I lately received a kind and brotherly letter from 
thee, for which I return thee many thanks. I am 
now in the communion of the people called Quakers ; 
and I have cause to bless God for this happy change 
of my life. I am, through mercy, brought off from 
the shadow of religion, and am pressing forward to 
get acquaintance with the quickening power, life, and 
virtue of it, that I may be a christian indeed, and not 
in the name and profession only. I had a great while 
talked and discoursed of holiness, but did not under- 
stand what it was to walk with God, to live and dwell 



22 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 



in him. Perhaps, indeed, some may think I made a 
fair show of piety when I was with you ; but, alas ! 
I was deeply sensible of my own faults and mis- 
carriages ; and I resolved, through God's assistance, 
to inquire after something more noble and excellent 
than I had discovered in that state : and blessed be 
his name for ever, that God hath answered the cry of 
my soul, and let me see a people, that are hated and 
despised by the world, but are dear to him ; for he 
hath revealed to them the mysteries of the kingdom ; 
he hath carried them upon eagles' wings, and cherished 
them as the apple of his eye. As for me, I have been 
yet but in the outward court, and far short of that 
truth and righteousness that is taught and practised 
among this people ; for they are come within the 
holiest of all — they are come into a near communion 
with God — to behold the cherubims of glory that 
cover the mercy seat— to be fed with the true manna. 
These are mysteries that are revealed unto the meek 
and lowly ; but the haughty, insolent, and profane 
cannot come near them, nor taste of the sweetness nor 
comfort of them. Indeed the formal, traditional 
sort of people of the world may talk of these things, 
as they have heard them from others, and in their 
sober moments may have some faint glimmerings that 
way; but to be come to the real and inward enjoy- 
ment of them, they can no more pretend, than to 
work the greatest impossibilities : all their wit, and 
subtlety, and learning, cannot reach higher to handle 
of the word of life ; this is peculiar only to those who 
are content to forsake all, and become fools for Christ. 
They are those who are in a good temper to receive 
and co-operate with the influences of the Holy Spirit, 
and have seen the emptiness and vanity of all those 
things that are so much admired by the world. The 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 23 

schools, and universities, and learned doctors, and 
great rabbies, have not profited me ; they are ravened 
from the Spirit of God, and gone out into their own 
notions and speculations, thinking thereby to search 
out God, and comprehend the truth. Alas ! the 
mysteries of the kingdom are far out of their reach 
in their carnal minds ; they weary themselves in vain ; 
the vulture's eye cannot pierce into these secrets ; all 
the great critics, scholars, and philosophers of the 
world, are fools in these things. They are wearying 
themselves to find the deep things of our God, 
studying and racking their heads, tossing and 
tumbling to and fro like a wild bull in a net, that 
knows not which way to disentangle himself: the 
more he struggles, the weaker he grows and the faster 
he is bound ; so the more these vain talkers read, the 
more they write, the more they cavil and dispute, 
the farther they are from God, and the more they 
declare their hatred and enmity to the spirit of Christ, 
and to the simplicity of the gospel. I have been a 
long time weary of the folly and impertinency of these 
men, and chiefly the celebrated fathers of the church, 
as they call them : the councils and synods of old 
are now of very small account with me. I am not 
ashamed to sit under the teachings of women and 
mechanics, howsoever they may seem in the eye of 
the world ; for they teach me more Christianity, and 
instruct me more perfectly in a divine life, than all 
the studied, elaborate sermons and discourses that 
ever I heard at the universities or since : their words 
are with power — they are mightily assisted with the 
spirit of God — they speak with majesty and authority 
— and there is a native beauty, clearness, and solidity 
of expression, that shines through their discourses, 
which is sufficient to answer that groundless calumny, 



24 LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

viz., the Quakers' preaching is nonsense, and nobody 
can understand them, This I have heard often 
refuted by many living testimonies ; so that I do 
rather think them the best wits, and the most ingeni- 
ous people in the world ; for they employ their parts 
and learning in the fear of God, to his glory and 
service, and to promote the true interest of mankind. 
As for the little jests, wittiness, and vain pedantry 
of the age, which I know the world hath esteem for, 
(and nothing will please but what abounds with such 
fooleries) ; 1 say, if the Quakers be deficient in any of 
these, it is not for want of abilities, or because they 
have less wit than other men, but because they have 
more prudence and wisdom to govern it ; and that is 
the reason why they avoid such childish vanities, which 
are so freely used and indulged in by others, to the 
great dishonour of God, and the christian religion. 
Therefore because they do not seek to please a wanton 
age, and make people laugh and be merry, nor to 
entertain that carnal, airy mind with pleasant stories, 
fine notions, and witty expressions of natural things ; 
from thence it is that they have been shamefully tra- 
duced by the world, as the most ignorant, blind, and 
foolish people that ever made any profession of reli- 
gion : and yet this is the people to whom I have now 
joined myself in a sincere love to truth, God knoweth. 
I glory more in this fellowship and acquaintance 
with these lambs of Christ, than if I were related to 
the greatest kings, lords, and potentates upon the 
earth. Oftentimes hath my spirit been refreshed 
with theirs, when we have met together to wait upon 
God ; and my soul still longs and pants more and 
more to be filled with these divine comforts. He is 
ready always to pour down blessings upon us, if we 
would qualify ourselves for the reception of them ; if 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 25 

we would put away vain thoughts, which cloud and 
darken the mind, and so hinder the favourable influ- 
ences and irradiations of heaven. And since it has 
pleased God to visit me of late, and to make known 
to me excellent things in righteousness, he alone is 
to have the praise and glory of all ; and now I freely 
resign myself to the conduct of the blessed Spirit. 

Now let the truth prosper; now let it run and be 
glorified in the earth ; let it shine out in its full 
lustre, to the terror and confusion of all the enemies 
thereof, and to the reviving of the souls of the hungry 
and thirsty, who are ready to faint, waiting for and 
expecting the consolation of Israel, until the time of 
refreshment comes from the presence of the Lord ; 
who will open a fountain for Judah and Jerusalem, 
so that rivers shall run in dry places : there will he 
speak peace to his people. And after they have sat 
silent a little w T hile in the dust, suffering patiently 
the chastising rod of his love to pass over them, he 
shall then comfort the daughter of Sion, and say, 
H Arise, thou afflicted, and weep and mourn no more, 
but put on thy beautiful garments, Jerusalem ! 
raise thy head, uncover thy face, and gird up thy 
loins with strength ; see the day break, and the 
morning spread itself upon the mountains ; now the 
sorrowful nights of affliction are gone over, the clouds 
are scattered and gone, the sun is risen in its 
brightness, and now joy and peace shall be multi- 
plied ; in a little wrath I hid my face from thee for 
a moment, but with everlasting kindness will I have 
mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer." ! 
let us wait, in humility of soul and tenderness of 
heart, before the Lord, that w r e may witness this 
great change and salvation wrought in us and for us ; 
that the Scripture may be no more a sealed book to 



26 LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

us, but that we may feel the precious truth therein 
recorded, to be fulfilled in our own particulars. Then 
we shall never be weary of praying, and reading the 
Holy Scriptures ; we shall never be loth or unwilling 
to come into God's presence : for his love, and the 
sweetness of his ointment, will draw and allure us to 
dwell always under his canopy, that we may feel life 
and power to flow from him, who is the ocean that 
supplies all the wants of the children of men. And 
how shall we come to taste that heavenly banquet 
which he hath prepared for us, that we may eat and 
drink at his table, and that our souls may delight 
in fatness — I say, how shall we attain to this, but 
by a strict and mortified life 1 Certainly the more 
we retire from worldly joys, and empty ourselves of 
earthly comforts and false delights, the fitter we shall 
be to receive those that are spiritual and heavenly ; 
and not only to receive and rejoice in them for a 
time, but to live and dwell in them for ever. For 
this is the life of Jesus ; and here the kingdom of 
God reigns in the heart and soul, by which it is 
changed from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of 
the Lord. 

And now I would ask all the wise and prudent, all the 
rich, all the noble and learned men of the world, what 
they think of these things 1 Whether this is to be 
learned in their courts and palaces 1 Or whether any 
of the great scholars and universities in Christendom 
can furnish us with such a system of divinity as this ? 
No ; they hate it and despise it ; and instead of a 
sober answer to my query, they return scoffs and 
contempt. " This is canting," they say, — " an idle 
dream, and forged chimera of his own brain ;" and a 
great many more opprobious names they have for 
such inquiries as these. Sometimes perhaps they will 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 27 

soften the expression with an hypocritical show, will 
pretend to pity me, calling it an unhappy effect of 
melancholy, and too much retirement from the world ; 
and this they think too much condescension — that I 
ought to think myself beholden to them for giving 
it so mild a character ; for at other times they deal 
more sharply, and say confidently that it is madness, 
delusion, witchcraft, and diabolical enthusiasm. But 
I am content to lie under all these odious imputa- 
tions from the world, knowing very well, that better 
men than I, have suffered the same things before me, 
and do at this present time. As for my enemies, I 
can truly say, I thank God I pity them and pray 
for them : they do not hurt me, but themselves. 

And now my dear friend, before I conclude, suffer 
me a little to speak of thy present circumstances ; for 
as God knoweth, my bowels yearn towards thee in the 
tender love of Jesus. I suppose thou art now where I 
left thee, viz. with the lord Richardson, (so called), in 
the capacity of a chaplain ; an office which I have had 
a little experience of myself, since I last saw thee; but 
was quickly so weary of that servile yoke, so unworthy 
of that holy function I bore, that in ten days' time I 
quitted my new preferment, and left it more free than 
ever I undertook it. What peace or satisfaction thou 
canst have in such kind of employment, I know not • 
for my part I could find none ; my soul was grieved 
and burthened every day with seeing and hearing 
their evil deeds, beholding their vanities and excesses ; 
this was a sword to my soul and spirit, it wounded 
me very deep : and I do solemnly profess, I had 
rather beg my bread from door to door, than to live 
in the like bondage again, where I must be obliged to 
such ceremonies and formalities, — to flatter men in 
their sins, — to cry, "peace, peace;" — and to sew pillows 



28 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 



under the armholes of delicate people, who can never 
bear the least check or frown ; but expect the merce- 
nary priest should always laugh or smile in their 
faces, even when he sees plainly they are going to 
hell and destruction. And yet I must tell thee, the 
family I was in was looked upon as one of the most 
sober and regular, as the world goes now ; and I must 
needs say, I did not leave them for any drinking, 
gaming, swearing, or whoring that I perceived 
amongst them ; as to all these filthy, scandalous prac- 
tices, as far as I could see, they were blameless : but 
yet I saw their hearts were not right, for they were 
lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God ; and thou 
knowest that he or they, let them be great or small, 
if they live in pleasures, grow fat, and wanton against 
Christ, such persons are dead whilst they live. I say, 
whatever their faith, or principles, or professions may 
be, yet in religion they are dead. I shall say no 
more, but hasten to a conclusion. If thou desire a 
particular account of my convincement, thou mayst 
see it in a letter I wrote lately to Richard Lake, 
junior, wherein I gave him a fair and true relation of 
my proceedings in that matter — what steps I took — and 
how God did graciously assist me, when he had raised 
in me sincere desires and inquiries after truth and 
holiness. Dear friend, I have no more at present, 
but to let thee know, I do most heartily pray for thee, 
that thou mayst consider things without prejudice, 
and not suffer any of the temptations and allurements 
of the world to draw thy mind from God, and to 
hinder thee in thy pursuit of holiness. He that loves 
father or mother, brother or sister, or any of the 
endearments of this world, more than Christ, is not 
worthy of him : but if thou wilt come into com- 
munion with Christ, and follow the guidance of 



LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 29 

his light and spirit, what a blessed and happy 
rest shalt thou find to thy soul ! what rivers of 
living waters will spring up in thee ! of which thou 
mayst drink freely, and praise God for all his mercies 
and benefits. That thou mayst indeed come to such 
spiritual enjoyments and refreshments as these, is the 
sincere desire of 

Thy loving and affectionate friend, 

Samuel Crisp, 

Letter III. 

Leeds, Sixth Month 7th, 1702, 
Loving Friend, G-. Paxton,* 
These may acquaint thee, that last Fourth-day was 
a week since I got well to my journey's end. But 
though my body rests as to the outward, yet I still 
feel a necessity to continue my inward, spiritual 
travel towards the new Jerusalem, the heavenly 
Canaan, where my soul may be satiated with ever- 
lasting and unchangeable felicity. I must still keep 
on my watch that the enemy of my soul may not at 
any time take an advantage against me : I must still 
stand upon my guard, go on in the Lamb's warfare, 
and diligently pursue such things as may make my 
calling and election sure : and this I think is the 
state of every christian, so long as he sojourns in this 
world. Perfect and complete rest and peace are only 
to be expected when we have laid aside these mortal, 
frail bodies, and shall enter those mansions of glory 
that Christ our Head hath prepared for us. But if w r e 
w r ould reign with him in another world, we must 
suffer with him in this — if we would wear the Crown, 

* A Friend who resided in Durham, 



30 LETTERS OF SAMUEL CRISP. 

we must first bear the Cross — if we would be con- 
querors, we must fight — if we would win the prize, 
we must not be cool and indifferent, but exert all our 
strength in the christian race — in short, if we would 
be perfect, we must sell all, part with all our lovers, 
and [be willing to] sacrifice all the nearest and dearest 
enjoyments, that we have in this world [when called 
for] : this is self-denial — this is mortification indeed 
— and this is the repentance unto life, never to be 
repented of. My love to thy uncle and Friends. 
I am thy loving and affectionate friend, 

Samuel Crisp. 



EXTRACTS 

FROM SAMUEL CRISP'S " VINDICATION OF THE PEOPLE 



[The first of the three following pieces is extracted 
from the Preface to Samuel Crisp's Vindication, the 
next from the Treatise itself, and the remaining one 
from the Appendix to it. 

It is believed that the weighty counsel, sound doc- 
trine, and instructive remarks which these Extracts 
contain, will commend them to the cordial acceptance 
of the serious reader.] 



A PLEA FOR THE TRUTH, AND AN EARNEST EXHORTATION 
TO BE FOUND WALKING THEREIN. 



" Stand ye in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, 
where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest 
for your souls." — Jer. vi. 16, 

Reader, 
I desire thou wouldst be serious and unbiassed in 
the reading of what I here present to thy view — so 
mayst thou reap benefit and advantage by it to thy 
soul. The noise and clamour against the Quakers 
has of late years been carried on and promoted with 



32 A PLEA FOR THE TRUTH, &C. 

great diligence by their adversaries ; insomuch as 
few, I think, who converse with the world, can be 
ignorant of it. This gave me occasion to inquire 
into their principles ; and that I might not take 
things upon trust, or believe the report of others con- 
cerning them, I was willing to see for myself — to read 
and consult their own authors. To this I applied 
myself with great seriousness ; desiring of the Lord 
in great humility and bowedness of soul, that he 
would open my understanding in the great things of 
his law, and that if the truth was amongst the 
Quakers, I might, without consulting with flesh and 
blood, join myself to that people, however slighted 
and despised I might be by the world for so doing. 
It was peace with God I wanted • and in comparison 
of that, I looked upon all other things as dross and 
dung. I had been always brought up in the national 
way of worship, and had been strict and punctual in 
the rites and ceremonies of the church of England 
beyond many • but yet I found all that would not do 
my business ; the seed was oppressed, and death 
reigned under all those forms and specious appear- 
ances of godliness. It was an easy matter to talk, 
and go the round of my devotions ; but I wanted 
strength and power to overcome my sins and corrup- 
tions. There was a cry raised in my soul after 
righteousness and truth • and this I found all my 
outward observations could not give me, for the 
kingdom of God is within men, though I was seeking 
for it abroad, doating upon shadows. And thus was 
I diverted from the pursuit of the knowledge of the 
truth, as it is in Jesus. I lived in darkness and 
ignorance of the true and saving knowledge of God, 
notwithstanding my high pretensions. But it has 
pleased God to rend the vail, to disperse the clouds, 



A PLEA FOR THE TRUTH, &C. 33 

and scatter the mists and fogs, in a good measure, 
blessed be his name. 

Know, reader, that there is a people in this age, 
who have paid something for religion ; and they will 
not be put off with shams and pretences, nor decoyed 
by the wiles of the enemy : they are not easily to be 
imposed upon, in the great things that concern their 
everlasting peace : they cannot bow to images, nor 
satisfy themselves with the husks and formalities of 
religion, but labour to come into the life of holiness 
and the real practice of virtue ; whom neither smiles 
nor frowns can prevail with to forsake the truth: 
These the devil envies, and to render them odious, 
he paints them out in black colours. To be sure, in 
his account, they are fools and madmen — fanatics 
I'll warrant you — schismatics — heretics — a dangerous 
sort of people : Sirs, look to yourselves, and as you 
love your souls, beware of the infection of Quakerism. 
This is the common language when people do not 
please him ; but if they are tame, and easy to his 
insinuations, if they can rest in a form, and dwell 
upon words and notions, then he reigns in peace — 
his kingdom is quiet — no hard names then. 

Well, reader, what I said before, I repeat now — it 
concerns thee to be serious, and to weigh things with 
a clear and disinterested mind. If thou wilt serve 
God, thou must take courage and break loose from 
the world : if thou wilt come to Christ, thou shalt 
find true riches, and a fountain of inexpressible joy. 
If thou die with Christ, thou shalt live ; if thou suffer 
with him in this vain, transitory world, thou shalt 
reign with him in glory for ever. Look not at thy 
own weakness, but look unto God, whose grace is 
sufficient for thee ; his strength is magnified in our 
weakness. Let not then the cross discourage thee, 

D 



34 A PLEA FOR THE TRUTH, &C. 

but take it up, and in meekness and patience bear it 
after Jesus, who for the joy that was set before him, 
endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set 
down at the right hand of the throne of the majesty 
in the heavens. Strip thyself from the creatures; 
wean thy affections from the world ; strengthen thy 
hand in God ; cleave stedfastly unto him ; make him 
thy friend, and then thou needst not care who is thine 
enemy ; all the rage of men and devils can never hurt 
thee. Hearken unto God ; obey his voice ; mind 
the teachings of his Holy Spirit; give up thyself 
entirely to the conduct of it, for its ways are ways of 
pleasantness, and all its paths are peace. This is 
that Comforter which is given to lead us into all 
truth : blessed are all those that are taught and led 
by it ; they see their way — it is made plain, and 
shines more and more unto the perfect day. Trust 
not to uncertainties ; put not off thy repentance ; de- 
lay not the time of returning to God. How dost thou 
know thou shalt live an hour longer ? Are all thy 
accounts fair and clear 1 Art thou ready to depart, 
if God should call thee before to-morrow morning *? 

Reader, once more I say — it concerns thee to 
be serious ; for the day of God hastens, wherein all 
false coverings shall be rent off ; fear shall take hold 
on the hypocrites, as sorrow upon a woman in tra- 
vail, and they shall not escape. A name and profes- 
sion of Christianity without the life and power of it, 
will then stand in very little stead ; it will be a ter- 
rible day, who shall be able to stand in it ! Certainly 
none of the hypocrites, and shufflers, and vain talkers, 
and disputers of this world, and empty notionists, 
and time-servers, and men-pleasers ; no, they will be 
all swept away, as chaff before the wind. " For behold 
the day cometh that shall burn as an oven ; and all 



A PLEA FOR THE TRUTH, <fcc. 35 

the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall be 
stubble : and the day that cometh shall burn them 
up, saith the Lord of Hosts, that it shall leave them 
neither root nor branch." — Mai. iv. 1. And there- 
fore now is the accepted time, prize it ; now is the 
day of salvation. Know, reader, that by the grace 
of God, thou art capable of great attainments ; true 
faith will remove mountains ; by that thou mayst 
escape the pollutions of the world, and come clean 
out of Babylon and Egypt, and all such things as 
would let or hinder thee in thy christian race. Why 
then should we trine away our precious minutes ? 
Why should we die short of true happiness ? Let 
the time past suffice us, to have wrought the will of 
the Gentiles, serving divers lusts and pleasures, and 
walking in the vanity of our minds. God has borne 
long with us ; his mercy and loving-kindness has 
been great ; let us provoke him no longer, but in- 
stantly return to him and humble our souls before 
him. This is the labour and travail of my soul, God 
knoweth, desiring that all men might be saved and 
come to the knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus. 
that all would taste and see how gracious he is ! 
If they would wait upon him in silence, with their 
minds retired from the world, and staid upon him, 
they may come to see wonderful things in righteous- 
ness ; the mysteries of God's kingdom should be 
opened and revealed to them, yea things which were 
kept secret from the foundation of the world. Such 
should find true peace and rest to their souls ; they 
should find strength administered according to their 
several wants, and grace to help in time of need ; 
yea, they should go from strength to strength and 
grow in grace daily, as the Apostle said,, Eph. iv. 13 ; 
" till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the 

d 2 



36 ON DIVINE WORSHIP, &C. 

knowledge of the Son of God unto a perfect man, 
unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of 
Christ :" which, reader, that we may all come to know, 
witness and experience in ourselves, is the earnest 
supplication and prayer of thy hearty well-wisher and 
sincere friend, to serve thee in the Truth. 

Samuel Crisp. 



ON DIVINE WORSHIP, GOSPEL MINISTRY, AND 
THE TRUE CHURCH. 



" God is a Spirit ; and they that worship him, must worship him 
in spirit and in truth." — John iv. 24. 



Our christian belief is, that every man ought to 
wait upon God, in the measure of his own good Spirit; 
that he is to follow its motions, observe its counsels, 
and make it the great rule and guide of his life ; and 
we say, as men wait in this and are led and governed 
by this, so, and not otherwise, are they accepted and 
approved in the sight of God. For this, and this 
only, can work all acceptable works in us, and for us. 
" Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lusts 
of the flesh." — Gal. v. 16. " For as many as are led 
by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God." — 
Rom. viii. 14. In the performance of all religious 
worship, we say there is especial need that men should 
wait upon God, in the gift of his own Spirit, to feel 
the conduct and assistance of it ; for this is the salt 
of the sacrifice, it is this gives savour and life to every 
duty, it is this must make known our wants to us, 
and instruct us how to apply ourselves to God for 



ON DIVINE WORSHIP, &C. 37 

suitable relief. The apostle of the Gentiles is excel- 
lent in this : Rom. viii. 26, 27. — " Likewise the 
Spirit also helpeth our infirmities ; — and he that 
searcheth the hearts, knoweth what is the mind of the 
Spirit, because he maketh intercession for the saints 
according to the will of God." God is to be wor- 
shipped in spirit and in truth ; and we wait upon 
him in silence, that we may be enabled to perform 
this worship and service, believing that his Spirit will 
help and teach us to pray, better than all directories 
and common-prayer books, Shall we for this be ridi- 
culed ? and because we are tender of the righteous 
seed of light and life in ourselves and others, observing 
what the apostle enjoins, not to quench the Spirit nor 
despise prophesyings, must we therefore be called 
fanatics and enthusiasts ? 

It is not men's running over their prayers by heart, 
or reading them out of a book, or undertaking to pray 
or preach by the strength of their own reason and 
natural faculties, that finds acceptance with God. 
None of these can be said to be that spiritual worship 
and service which God calls for in the days of the 
Gospel, now that he hath sent forth the Spirit of his 
Son into our hearts, whereby we cry Abba Father : not 
now, I say, when he has poured forth his Spirit upon 
sons and daughters • so that they can and must pro- 
phesy; not now, when God has so clearly revealed him- 
self to the world, and told us expressly by his Son, that 
he is a Spirit ; that the true worshippers shall worship 
him in spirit and in truth ; and that he seeketh such to 
worship him. These are Gospel days ; this is the last 
and most glorious dispensation that shall ever be in 
the world ; now God calls for a more than ordinary 
strictness and purity of life. The times of ignorance, 
it is said, God winked at • but now he commandeth all 



38 ON DIVINE WORSHIP, &C. 

men every where to repent ; to leave off their dead 
forms, their empty ceremonies and hypocritical will- 
worship, a worship which they can go about in their 
own time, begin and finish it when they please. 
Here many are making a profession of religion and 
godliness outwardly, going on in a round of bodily 
exercises, and pretended devotions, from one year's 
end to another, and yet are destitute of the inward, 
experimental knowledge of Jesus Christ. But blessed 
be God for ever, that he has in this generation, made 
bare his arm in a wonderful manner, and brought a 
remnant near to himself : they have seen to an end 
of types and shadows, and are come to Christ, the 
life and substance, and to the one spiritual baptism, 
that purgeth the conscience from dead works, to serve 
the living God. And they are come to the true 
supper, and inward communion of the body and blood 
of Christ ; where they feed daily at his table, and eat 
of that bread that came down from heaven, which 
nourisheth the soul unto eternal life. These are 
brought off from all the world's carnal and literal 
teachers, and are come to the ministration of the 
Spirit, and the teachings of Christ Jesus, who is their 
Prophet, Priest, and King, the only true Shepherd 
and Bishop of their souls. These are come to a true 
silence, and ceasing from all their own words ; they 
wait for the arising of that Divine Power and Life 
which shall render their service accepted of God and 
useful and beneficial to men. They preach and pray 
as the Spirit helps them. They observe Christ's rule 
and precept, which is, to watch and pray; plainly 
shewing, that before men pray, they should watch ; 
that is, retire in their minds, and wait upon God, that 
they may " serve him acceptably, with reverence and 
godly fear. For (as the apostle says) our God is a 



ON DIVINE WORSHIP, &C. 39 

consuming fire." Those who rush hastily into his 
presence, without due preparation and watchfulness, 
they offer the sacrifice of fools ; they do not come up 
with acceptance on God's altar. — Isa. lx. 7. It is 
said of Nadab and Abihu, that M they offered strange 
fire before the Lord, which he commanded them not 
And there went out fire from the Lord, and devoured 
them, and they died before the Lord." — Levit. x. 1, 2. 
Let the ungodly and uncircumcised priests and people 
of the world, who on all occasions are so full of their 
prayers and devotions, consider this : they would, I 
am confident, be ashamed to appear in that posture 
before some of their superiors, wherein they many 
times appear before God. But, as I said before, they 
who know God rightly, have learned to wait upon 
him in the silence of all flesh. " Without me/' (says 
Christ,) " ye can do nothing." Being sensible of this, 
they have learned to bow and humble themselves 
before God; not daring to open their mouths, or 
speak a word, but as God is pleased to make known 
to them the mysteries of his kingdom, to prepare 
a sacrifice for himself, and to touch their lips with a 
live coal from the altar. When the well springs up, 
then they can sing unto it. — Numb. xxi. 17. When 
God opens, none can shut ; and when he shuts none 
can open. These wait, as the apostles at Jerusalem, 
to receive power from on high ; when God bids them 
speak, they must speak ; they may neither add to 
[that which is given them,] nor diminish from it. 
They must not quench the Spirit, nor despise pro- 
phesyings. — 1 Thess. v. 19, 20. 

This is our christian belief, with respect to the 
worship of God, and the solemn offices of religion, 
such as praying and preaching. And by the places 
cited, it may appear to every impartial eye, that these 



40 A WARNING, &C. 

are no new lights or upstart notions, but agreeable 
to Holy Scripture, and the practice of the primitive 
Christians ; to whose blessed example, holy and pious 
life, we desire in all things to conform ourselves. 

The church of God is the pillar and ground of 
Truth : it is built upon the foundation of the apostles 
and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief 
corner-stone. The church of God consists of living 
stones ; they are built up a spiritual house, a holy 
priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable 
to God by Jesus Christ ; they are a chosen generation, 
a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people, 
who in life and conversation, shew forth the praises 
of Him who hath called them out of darkness, 
into his marvellous light. This is a glorious church, 
not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but 
holy and without blemish. This is the true church 
and true religion, which we desire all people would 
seriously consider and diligently press after. 



A WARNING GIVEN TO THE PRESENT GENERATION, TO 
CONSIDER THEIR WAYS AND TURN UNTO THE LORD ; 
WHEREIN THEY ARE REMINDED OF THE LATE DREADFUL 
TEMPEST OF WIND. 



" Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did he in heaven, and in 
earth, in the seas, and all deep places. He causeth the vapours 
to ascend from the ends of the earth ; he maketh lightnings for 
the rain ; he bringeth the wind out of his treasuries." — -Psalm 
cxxxv. 6, 7. 



How gloriously has the Truth broken forth in this 
latter age of the world, and how has England been 
favoured with the bright sunshine of the gospel, and 



A WARNING, &C. 41 

the revelation of eternal truths ! And how has God 
waited with much long-suffering and patience, to 
gather this nation to himself ! How has the word of 
the Lord been proclaimed in towns and cities, and 
that with much dread, and great majesty and power ! 
And how has the Lord stretched out his hand to the 
inhabitants of this island, day after day and year 
after year ; that if by any means he might gather 
them in the arms of his love, and bless them, and 
make this land as a garden of pleasant plants, an 
eternal excellency, the joy of the whole earth ! But 
0, how ill have many requited him for his kindness, 
and mercy, and long- suffering ! How have they 
hardened their hearts, and rebelled against his Holy 
Spirit, and slighted the overtures of peace and recon- 
ciliation ! How have they abused his servants, and 
shamefully treated those that came purely in love to 
their souls, and sought neither their silver nor gold, but 
their eternal welfare ; and were willing to leave their 
families, friends and relations, and travel many hun- 
dreds of miles to invite others to come in and partake 
with them, in the glorious communion and fellowship 
of the saints in light ! And how shily and disdain- 
fully have the poor worldlings and their blind priests 
(who were settled in the earth), looked upon these inno- 
cent servants of the Lord ! And what an outcry have 
they raised against them ! treating them as rogues and 
vagabonds (of whom yet the world was not worthy), 
and calling them seducers, and hereticks, and blas- 
phemers, and Jesuits, and fools, and madmen, and 
anything that malice or ignorance could suggest ! 
And what flouts and jeers, and stripes, and knocks, 
and bruises, have they met with, for their obedience to 
the Lord ! and all this from a sort of men that called 
themselves Christians ; from whose profession, one 
would expect better things at their hands. 



42 A WARNING, &C. 

And how ill both priests and people have requited 
the servants of the Lord, for their testimony against 
the works of darkness ! Surely God will judge for 
these things. And notwithstanding the gospel has 
been so fully and demonstratively preached in this 
nation, yet how do sin and wickedness, injustice and 
oppression, fraud and violence, and all manner of 
abominations, run down the streets of towns, cities 
and villages, like a mighty stream ! How madly and 
desperately do many lead their lives ! What pro- 
digious excess, and pride, and vanity, and super- 
fluity, are found amongst the inhabitants of England ! 
How do ungodly men devour the creation, and 
spend it upon their lusts, and weary themselves to 
commit iniquity ! They bid defiance to all religion, 
and cast off all seriousness ; they rant and swear, 
dance and sing, and fill the land with oaths and 
blasphemies. They wallow in pleasures, and indulge 
themselves in ease and softness perpetually ; and are 
not valiant for the truth upon the earth, but live 
enslaved to the devil's kingdom. They speak every 
man vanity with his neighbour ; and as for lying, 
and flattery, hypocrisy and deceit, there is no end 
of them. Hypocrites and formalists, shufflers and 
mammonists spare one another, wink at one another, 
daub one another, and bolster up one another in 
their unrighteous and ungodly ways and practices. 
And such God hates ; and his fierce wrath will be 
manifest against them, except they repent. What 
a deep sleep and prodigious carelessness possesses 
the minds of such men ! What do they study ? 
What do they regard 1 Nothing but to satisfy their 
lusts, and please themselves. As for religion and 
meekness, sobriety and virtue, they are bantered and 
ridiculed, hissed and spurned at, and kicked off the 
stage of the world. Honesty, truth, and plain- 



A WARNING, &C. 43 

dealing, find no room in men's hearts ; they cannot 
bear to be told of their faults ; daub them over and 
wink at them, and then you please them. The con- 
sideration of these things cannot but wound any chris- 
tian heart. Ah sinful nation ! a people laden with 
iniquity ! The Lord, in mercy, put a stop to this 
torrent of wickedness ! The Lord touch every soul 
with a deep sense of their provocations, and make 
them truly penitent, and incline their hearts to the 
serious study and practice of holiness ! May the 
great men and rulers of the earth make it their busi- 
ness, both by their example and authority, to check 
vice and wickedness, and discourage and suppress all 
profaneness, debauchery and immorality. They may 
be instruments of much good in their generation, if 
they would zealously and impartially exercise that 
power which they have in their hands ; otherwise 
they cannot escape, but their condemnation will be 
great in the day of the Lord. 0, may the judgments 
of the Lord awaken people to a speedy and timely 
repentance ! that they may learn righteousness, and 
know the things that belong to their everlasting peace, 
before they be hid from their eyes, and the wrath of 
God break forth against them, to their utter desolation. 
What do people think of the late great stormy 
wind* — the most dreadful calamity of the kind per- 

* This was a truly awful visitation : the following account of 
it is extracted from some authentic published Records of Remark- 
able Events. 

" One of the most terrible Storms of Wind that was perhaps ever 
known in England, occurred on the 26th of November, 1703, 
attended with vivid flashes of lightning. It commenced about ten 
o'clock at night, and continued to rage with extreme violence till 
seven the next morning, when it gradually moderated. So tremen- 
dous were its effects, that people feared a total wreck of nature. 
Although the devastation was particularly afflictive in the Metro- 
polis, yet every part of the kingdom experienced more or less of its 



44 * A WARNING, &C. 

haps that ever afflicted this nation ? How were thou- 
sands distressed then, both by sea and land ! What 
a consternation was upon the minds of people — 
fear without and fear within ! And what weeping, 
and crying, and lamentation, was there in many 
places ! And how were many cut to the heart, and 
knew not what to say, nor what to do ! For the hand 
of the Lord was upon them, and the arrows of the 
Almighty wounded them ; and they knew not which 
• way to escape, nor where to hide themselves from the 
fierceness of his indignation, who was come and 
coming to shake terribly the inhabitants of the earth. 
And then many a rotten, hypocritical heart, I believe, 
was ripped up, and the false covering torn off; men 

ravages. The damage sustained within the City alone, was estimated 
at two millions sterling ; besides vast loss in other parts of the 
Metropolis. Upwards of two thousand stacks of chimnies were 
blown down ; and the streets covered with broken tiles and slates 
from the roofs of houses. The lead on the tops of several churches, 
was rolled up like skins of parchment ; and at Westminster Abbey, 
Christ's Hospital, St. Andrew's Holborn, and many other places, 
it was carried off from the buildings. Several houses near Moor- 
fields were levelled with the ground ; as were about twenty 
others in the out-parts, together with a great number of brick 
walls, and gable ends of houses. Twenty- one persons were killed 
by the fall of the ruins, and about one hundred others greatly 
injured. All the ships in the river Thames, between London 
Bridge and Limehouse, except four, were forced from their moor- 
ings and thrown on shore ; upwards of four hundred wherries 
were entirely lost ; more than sixty barges were driven foul of 
London Bridge, and as many more were either sunk or staved 
between the Bridge and Hammersmith : these events were also 
attended with the loss of many lives. The loss sustained at 
Bristol, was computed at £200,000. But the destruction at sea 
far exceeded that on land ; for in this dismal night, twelve men-of- 
war, with upwards of eighteen hundred men on board, perished 
within sight of their own shore ; great numbers of merchantmen 
were also lost : and in fact the entire damage was so great, that 
its amount exceeded all computation." 



A WARNING, && 45 

saw their shortness in many things, and were ready 
to cry to the Lord for mercy ; wished they had lived 
better lives, and that instead of talking of Chris- 
tianity, they had practised it. But alas, how soon are 
these things forgotten ! And what amendment or 
reformation do we see in men's lives ? He that was 
a hypocrite and a formalist, and a time-server and a 
hireling last year, for aught I see, is so still. He 
that was bitter, passionate, peevish, uncharitable, 
covetous, selfish and earthly-minded, and even with- 
out natural affection, is so still. He that was scraping 
and raking up wealth then, is doing so still. He that 
was puffed up with pride, and a loose liver, and a 
libertine, and strutted about with his sword and long- 
powdered wig then, is and does so still. She that 
was dressed a-la-mode then, and could patch, and 
paint, and take her pleasure, and live in wantonness 
upon the earth, does so still. how the lusts of the 
flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, abound 
amongst them ! And the priest drives on his trade, 
and looks for his gain from his quarter ; and his wife 
and children must be in the proud fashions, or else 
what will the neighours say of him ? But how to 
rebuke vice sharply arid boldly, and set a good 
example, he knows not ; the poor man has no heart 
to it, he fears it will not be for his interest. And so 
he that was at ease in a dry and empty and fruit- 
less profession, thinks himself secure still ; the old 
clothes go on, and he runs the round of formality and 
hypocrisy. And the careless daughters still walk 
about the streets, with stretched-out necks, and their 
monstrous head-dresses, mincing as they go, so deli- 
cate, as if the ground were not good enough for them 
to tread upon. Is this our improvement upon God's 
judgments — our mourning in sackcloth and ashes ? 
Oh the incorrigibleness of mankind ! He that could 



46 A WARNING, &C. 

fight and swear, and curse and damn, and revel and 
be drunk, and cheat and lie last year, for aught I see, 
can do so still. And few are humbled under the 
hand of the Lord as they ought to be : few mourn in 
secret, and turn unto the Lord, and seriously lay 
things to heart, and consider their latter end. But 
they go on, every man in his own way, and set up 
their idols in their hearts, to commit abomination 
therewith. And the wanton, the voluptuary, and the 
ambitious, pursue their pleasures and delights, and 
worldly interests, with as much eagerness and resolu- 
tion as ever. And is this a time, now when God has 
so eminently signalized his displeasure against us, to 
plead for sin and imperfection, and strengthen the 
hands of wickedness, and for any to stir up persecu- 
tion 1 Surely we may find other work to do. What ! 
are not the sins of this nation great enough ? Is this 
a time to wink and spare, and daub and bolster up 
men in their sins i What ! shall profaneness and the 
most scandalous immoralities still go unpunished ? 
And shall the play-house still be suffered to laugh at 
religion, and droll upon everything that is serious/ 
to debauch the age, and propagate a stock of atheists 
and libertines ? Surely these things are not con- 
sistent with Christianity : and truly whatever men 
may talk, nothing short of this, is like to avert those 
judgments that seem to hang over our heads. How 
it may please God to visit us the next time, we know 
not : but surely if we still go on in our impenitence 
and stiff-neckedness, it may be just with God to be 
more severe with us. 

And now, that the Gospel may prosper, and 
righteousness increase, the church flourish, and truth 
and peace, love and good works take place in the 
earth, is the desire of my soul. 

The 15th of the Second Month (called April), 1704. 



A LETTEE 



ELIZABETH WEBB 



ANTHONY WILLIAM BCEHM ; 



CONTAINING 



A X S W E R. 



tribulation workeih patience ; and patience, expe- 
rience ; and experience, hope : and hope maketh not 
ashamed ; because the love of god is shed abroad in 

our hearts by the holy ghost which is giyen unto us 

Romans v 3, 4, 5. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The inducements to the publication of the follow- 
ing Letter at this distant period from the time it was 
written, are — the hope entertained by some devout 
persons, who have been edified by the spiritual ex- 
periences it contains, that it may prove instructing 
and comforting to others alike piously disposed— and 
the desire to prevent the further circulation of incor- 
rect copies in manuscript, such having been handed 
about. It has therefore been revised, and is now 
recommended to the serious perusal of all those, who, 
having entered on a religious life, may desire to find 
instruction and encouragement to press forward with 
stability and humble resignation, through the various 
probations and conflicts attending them in their 
christian progress, that they may obtain, under their 
spiritual leader, the grace of God, " the end of their 
faith,- even the salvation of their souls." 

It may also be satisfactory to the readers, to have 
some account of the writer, and of the person to 
whom the letter was written. They are therefore 
briefly informed that Elizabeth Webb was an acknow- 
ledged minister among the people called Quakers, 
who, from an apprehension of religious duty and the 
constraints of gospel love, went from Pennsylvania to 
Great Britain, to visit her Friends there, about the 

E 



50 INTRODUCTION. 

year 1712. When in London she contracted some 
acquaintance with Anthony William Boehm, who 
was chaplain to Prince George of Denmark, the con- 
sort of Anne, Queen of England, and by birth a 
German, yet well acquainted with the English lan- 
guage : he died in the year 1722. The divers writ- 
ings on religious subjects which he has left, shew him 
to have been a man of a truly pious and catholic dis- 
position ; which is also confirmed by the testimonials 
given of him by men of character in his time,* who, 
from their personal knowledge, mention him with 
great respect for his piety to God, and benevolence 
to mankind. 

Philadelphia, Eleventh Month, 1781. 

* In addition to the productions of his own pen, A. W. Boehm 
translated from the German a valuable work, entitled " True 
Christianity," written by John Arndt. Among those who bore 
testimony to his worth, as a religious character, was the pious 
Isaac Watts, who said of him, that he feared there were few such 
men in England, British or Gferman, Episcopal or Nonconformist. 



A LETTEE 



ELIZABETH WEBB TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BGEHM. 



Worthy Friend, 
The kind respect thou shewedst Hie, when in Lon- 
don, hath laid me under an obligation wherein I find 
my mind drawn to communicate to thee in the open- 
ings of divine love ; on which I must desire thy 
favourable construction, as I am almost a stranger 
to thee. What I have to write, hath been on my 
mind these several weeks, in that pure, innocent love 
in which is the communion of saints. I have no 
learned method in which to deliver my religious ex- 
perience, either by word or writing, but plainly and 
simply as the Spirit of truth directs : and I being 
the weaker vessel too, have the more need to beg to 
be excused. I shall not write from notions and 
speculations ; I look on such things as unsafe, and I 
know they are many times unsound : but I shall 
write a small part of what I have gone through, and 
what my soul hath tasted of the good word of life, 
which is near ; that we may have fellowship together 
in God the Father of our spirits, and in his Son 
Jesus Christ our Lord ; whom my soul hath known 
both in mercy and in judgment, to the mortifying, 
in a good degree, the fallen and corrupt nature, and 

e 2 



52 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

to the purifying of my heart so far, as that I can say to 
his praise, I do not see him through particular forms, 
sects, party impressions, or any such thing. No, my 
dear friend, I never sought after the Lord in these 
ways, nor for any of these ends ; but I sought after 
him in my young years for salvation, and I still seek 
to him for the perfect restoration of my soul in him. 
I have nothing of my own to boast of, unless it be 
weakness and infirmities ; but desire to rejoice in the 
cross of Christ, by which I am crucified to the world 
in a good degree, and the world to me ; so that I can 
say, I die daily. 

And as touching the fondness for education, reli- 
gious profession and conversation, these things have 
cast no mist before my eyes. I can see, own and 
love the image of my Lord and Saviour in any sort 
of profession, if the soul hath been educated in the 
heavenly university or school of Christ. Neverthe- 
less, we cannot see God in, or have fellowship with 
all sorts of conversations ; that of the wicked is as if 
there was no God, " God is not in all their thoughts." 
And such as despise the image of the meek, humble 
Jesus, and will follow none of his precepts, nor his 
self-denying example, whilst they are here, the Lord 
will hereafter despise their image : for they shall 
have an image according to the seed or spirit in 
which they lay down their body : every seed shall 
have its own body in the resurrection of the just and 
the unjust, and every one shall receive his own sen- 
tence. 

Thou well observest that sin, self-love, self-will, 
&c, contract the soul into a very narrow compass ; 
but the love of God breaks down all those walls of 
selfishness by which the soul is hedged in and re- 
strained from universal love and benignity. This 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM B(EHM. 53 

is very true ; but there are those who will not receive 
our love as it is in Jesus : nevertheless, some have 
felt [towards such], the Sowings of the love and com- 
passion of Him, who " would not the death of a 
sinner, but rather that all would return to Him, re- 
pent and live." I am a witness for the Lord, that 
the shedding abroad of his love over the inhabitants 
of this nation, hath been like showers of rain in the 
spring time : I well remember that I told a Eriend 
in London, I felt the divine extendings of the love of 
God so to flow to the people, as I walked in the 
streets of the city, that I could have freely published 
the salvation of God, (which is near, and his 
righteousness which is ready to be revealed,) in the 
public places of concourse : the Friend said, he 
hoped it would not be required of me. This I men- 
tion to convince thee that universal love prevails in 
the hearts of some who are unknown to the world, 
and hardly known to their own brethren ; and this 
is not to be wondered at ; Eli did not know the in- 
ward exercise of Hannah, and the prophet Elijah 
thought he had been left alone, until the Lord told 
him he had seven thousand in Israel who had not 
bowed to Baal ; the prophet Samuel also, when he 
looked out with an eye of reason on the goodness of 
the stature of Eliab, said, " Surely the Lord's anointed 
is before him ;" so now, unless the Lord be pleased 
to reveal things to us, we are liable to mistake, But 
blessed be the name of our most gracious God, who 
is the same that ever he was, he sees not as man 
sees ; for man looks at the outward appearance, but 
God looks at the heart. 

I received thy second letter just as I was going out 
of London, of which I have sent thee a copy, with some 
annotations : my view therein is, that if thou thinkst 



oi A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

it may be of benefit to any, thou mayst communicate 
it ; if not, let it lie by thee. 

I take great notice of thy christian love and good 
advice in thy second letter, and do accept of it very 
heartily ; and can assure thee, that my labour is not 
to gather people into a formality, but I labour accord- 
ing as the Lord enables me, to gather souls to Christ, 
who is able to make the deceitful hearts of the chil- 
dren of men, plain, honest, upright and clean ; and 
when '• the inside is clean, the outside will be clean 
also." But I freely acknowledge that the glory of the 
true church or mystical body, or bride of Christ 
(which is made up of souls, who have entered into 
covenant with the Lord, to love and serve him for 
ever), is within ; " her clothing is of wrought gold," 
and the curious needlework of virgin wisdom is upon 
her ; for she hath been stripped of all her old rags 
or garments of righteousness and unrighteousness. 
Having been washed in pure water, her Bridegroom 
hath anointed her with holy oil— the holy unction of 
his Spirit ; and he is clothing her with the beautiful 
garment of his salvation — the robe of his righteous- 
ness. She is depending on him for her daily bread ; 
so that she is not eating her own bread, nor wearing 
her own apparel. She cannot be content with only 
bearing his name, but longs to be made more and 
more a partaker of his divine nature. And the love 
of her Lord hath been and still is so largely extended 
to her, with her love so to him, that she is wholly 
subject to him ; he ruleth in love, and she obeys in 
love, and this makes all things easy. She hath no 
will of her own, but the will of her Lord is her will 
in all things : all his commands are pleasant to her, 
because she delights to wait on him, and to serve in 
his presence, and had rather be deprived of all outward 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BCEHM. 55 

enjoyments, than of his presence, and the enjoyment 
of his favour. Her conversation is adorned with 
humility and meekness, her steps are comely in the 
eyes of her Beloved, " all her children are taught of 
the Lord, established in righteousness, and great is 
their peace." And my soul may say to the praise and 
glory of God, that no greater comfort can be enj oyed 
on this side the grave, than to be a child or member 
of this church. 

And now, my dear friend, I will give thee a short 
account of the dealings of the Lord with me in my 
young years ; how he brought my soul through fire 
and water. For what end this has lived in my mind 
I know not, except it be for our spiritual commu- 
nion j but when my soul is lowest and nearest to the 
Lord in the simplicity of truth, then is my heart 
opened and my mind filled with divine love respecting 
this matter. I desire thee to peruse it inwardly, 
when thou art retired, and not to judge of it before 
thou hast gone through it ; and then judge as freely 
as thou pleasest : — 

I was baptized and educated in the way of the 
church of England ; and went to school to a minister 
thereof, whom 1 loved and honoured greatly ; he 
showed great kindness and tenderness to me. In 
those days I looked on the ministers to be like angels, 
that brought glad tidings to the children of men. 
When I was about fourteen years of age, I went to 
live at a knight's house, who kept a chaplain : I 
observed his conversation, and saw it was vain, and I 
thought it ought not to be so, and was troubled in 
my mind ; for I then began to think on my latter end 
and also on eternity, and I had no assurance of salva- 
tion or a state of happiness, if it should please the 
Lord to send the messenger of death to call me away. 



56 A LETTEE FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

So the fear of tlie Lord laid hold on my mind, and I 
began to search the Scriptures, and found they testi- 
fied that "the wicked should be turned into hell, and 
all those that forget God." And I saw that both 
priests and people did too generally u forget God," as 
soon as they came oiF their knees, or from their devo- 
tion. I was much afraid of hell, and wanted an 
assurance of a place in the kingdom of heaven. Then 
I began to think on the great promises that were 
made for me in my baptism, as they called it, (whereby 
they said I was made a member of Christ, a child of 
God, &c.,) that I should renounce the devil and 
all his works, the pomps and vanities of this wicked 
world, and all the sinful lusts of the flesh, and should 
keep God's holy will and commandments. I thought 
indeed this was the way to obtain a place in the king- 
dom of heaven ; but I had no power to do what I 
ought to do, nor to forsake what I ought to forsake, 
for I was very proud, vain and airy. But as I was thus 
inwardly exercised, and outwardly searching the Scrip- 
tures, my understanding was more and more opened. 
I read and took notice that the ministers of Christ, 
whom he qualified, and sent forth to preach, were to 
do it freely ; for Christ said, " Freely ye have received, 
freely give," and that those who run when the Lord 
never sent them, " should not profit the people at all." 
Many such things opened in my mind, and I used to 
ponder them in my heart ; also the promises to the 
flock in the 34th of Ezekiel, where the Lord promised 
to bind up that which was sick. These and similar por- 
tions of the Scriptures were very comfortable to me, 
for I was sick of my sins, and my heart was broken 
many times before the Lord. I thought, Oh ! that 
I had lived in the days of Christ, I would surely have 
been one of those that followed him ; and I grieved 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BOSHM. 57 

because the Jews crucified him. Thus I loved Christ 
in the outward appearance, and could have said, (as 
Peter said), far be it from thee Lord to suffer : yet I 
did not know he was so near me by his Holy Spirit. 
But I was convinced that the hireling shepherds, who 
teach for hire and divine for money,* were not the 
ministers of Christ, by the testimony of the prophets 
and of Christ himself, who said, " By their fruits ye 
shall know them/' So I left going to hear them, and 
walked alone : for I had gone till a fear followed me 
into the worship-house, and I thought it would be just 
upon me, if I was made an example for my inatten- 
tion to the Spirit of truth. When I was about fifteen 
years old, it pleased God to send the spirit of grace 
and supplication into my heart, by which I prayed 
fervently unto the Lord : there was a divine breath- 
ing in my soul : I had no life in my forms of prayer, 
except that one which Christ taught his disciples, for 
which I have always had a reverent esteem : but 
when I was in a state to pray, I found that the Spirit 
made intercession in me and for me, according to the 
present want and necessity of my soul. I remember 
the expressions that used to run through my mind 
were — " Lord ! preserve me in thy fear and in thy 
truth — Lord ! shew me thy way, and make known 
thy mind and will unto me ;" — and I thought I was 
ready to obey it, and much desired to know the 
people of God ; for my soul cried, " Lord ! where 
dost thou feed thy flock ; why should I be as one that 
is turned aside from the flocks of thy companions V 9 0, 
the drawing cords of thy divine love ! 0, thou didst 
draw my soul with longings and breathings after the 
only true God, and of Jesus Christ ! There was then 
no condemnation for the sins of ignorance, which the 
* Micah iii. 11. 



08 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

Lord winked at ; but he called me to repent and for- 
sake niy pride and vain company, which was a great 
cross to the will of the flesh. Yet I took it up for several 
months ; and while I did so, my soul had great peace 
and divine comfort; so that many times the enjoy- 
ment of divine love was more to me than my natural 
food, or any outward thing. I remember when the 
family used to ask me why I did not come to meat, 
I used to think I had meat to eat that they knew 
nothing of. And in those times of retirement, I had 
manifestations of sufferings that I should go through, 
and a sight of several things which I met with since ; 
and in those times I walked alone. 

I was convinced that the Quakers held the prin- 
ciples of truth, and that their ministry was the true 
ministry : but I dwelt then far from any of them, 
only thus it had happened : — "When I was about twelve 
years old, I was at a meeting or two of theirs, and 
the doctrine of one man that preached there, proved 
to me, (as the wise man terms it), like bread cast 
upon the waters, for it was found after many days : 
the sound of his voice seemed to be in my mind when 
I was alone, and some of his words came fresh into 
my remembrance ; and the voice and the words suited 
with the exercise of the mind. At that time I met 
also with a little book of theirs, [and finding] the 
doctrine it contained agreed with the doctrine of the 
apostles, I was confirmed in my judgment, that their 
profession agreed with the truth : but I did not join 
with them ; for by that time flesh and blood began to 
be very uneasy under the yoke of retirement, and to 
groan for liberty. I was about sixteen years old ; 
and the subtle enemy lay near, and did not want 
instruments : so I was persuaded by reasoning with 
flesh and blood, that I was young, and might take a 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BCEHM. 59 

little more pleasure, and might serve God when I 
was older. I let go my exercise of watching and 
praying, left off retirement, and let out my love to 
visible objects. Pride and vanity grew up again; 
the divine, sweet, meek, loving Spirit withdrew, and 
I could not find it again when I pleased, although I 
did seek it sometimes : for I could have been pleased 
with the sweet comforts of his love, yet I did not 
like to bear the daily cross. And being convinced 
that was [required by] the Quakers' principles, and 
believing they did enjoy the sweetness of divine love 
in their meetings, I went sometimes a great way to 
a meeting to seek for divine refreshment there ; but 
to no purpose ; for I was like some dry stick that 
had no sap nor virtue, unto which rain and sunshine, 
summer and winter are all alike. — Thus it was with 
me for about three years. 

Oh, the remembrance of that mispeut time ! Oh, 
the tribulation that came on me for my disobedience, 
is never to be forgotten ! But when I was about nine- 
teen years of age, it pleased the Almighty to send his 
quickening Spirit again into my heart, and his light 
shined into my mind ; all my transgressions were set 
in order before me, and I was made deeply sensible 
of my great loss. And then, oh then ! the vials of 
the wrath of an angry Father, were poured out on 
the transgressing nature. Oh, then I cried, " woe is 
me ! woe is me ! I am undone — I have slain the 
babe of grace — I have crucified the Lord of life and 
glory to myself afresh, although I have not put him 
to open shame." For I had been preserved in moral 
honesty in all respects, to that degree, that I durst 
not tell a lie, or speak an evil word, and could be 
trusted in any place, and in any thing ; for this 
would be in my mind many times, that if I was not 



60 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

faithful in the unrighteous mammon I should not be 
trusted with heavenly treasure. But notwithstanding 
my righteousness, He whose eye penetrates all hearts, 
found me so guilty, that I thought there was no 
mercy for me. Oh ! that testimony of our blessed 
Lord Jesus, I found to be true, viz : Except your 
righteousness exceed the righteousness of the Scribes 
and Pharisees, there is no admittance into the king- 
dom of heaven or favour of God. But after many 
days and nights of sorrow and great anguish, having 
no soul to speak to, it came into my mind to give 
myself up into the hands of God ; and I said, " 
Lord ! if I perish, it shall be at the gate of thy 
mercy ; for if thou cast me into hell, I cannot help 
myself; therefore I will give up my soul, my life, 
and all into thy holy hand : do thy pleasure by me ; 
thy judgments are just, for I have slighted thy sweet 
love and have slain the babe of grace." And as I 
sunk down into death, and owned and submitted to 
the judgments of God, my heart was broken, which 
before was hard ; and it pleased my merciful Father 
to cause his divine, sweet love to spring again in 
my hard, dry, and barren soul, as a spring of living 
water ; the fire of the wrath of God was mightily 
abated, and the compassionate bowels of a tender 
Saviour my soul felt. I had living hope raised in 
my mind : yet greater afflictions came afterwards ; 
so that I may say by experience, " Strait is the gate 
and narrow is the way," indeed, u that leadeth unto 
life." And I have cause to believe, none but such 
as are made willing to be stript of all that belongs 
to self or the old man, and do become as little 
children, can rightly or truly enter in at the strait 
gate. And I do find by experience, that no vulture's 
eye, no ^venomous beast, nor lofty lion's whelp, can 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM B(EHM. 61 

look into or tread in this holy, narrow way — Oh ! 
the longing there is in my soul, that all might con- 
sider it. But to proceed : — 

I thought all was well, [and said in my heart.] "The 
worst is now over, and 1 am again taken into the 
favour of God :" so I was led into an elevation of joy, 
though inwardly in silence. But in a few days my 
soul was led into a wilderness where there was no 
way, no guide, no light that I could see, but darkness 
such as might be felt indeed : for the horrors of it were 
such, that when it was night I wished for morning, 
and when it was morning I wished for evening. The ' 
Lord was near, but I knew it not : he had brought 
my soul into the wilderness, and there he pleaded 
with me by his fiery law and righteous judgments. 
The day of the Lord came upon me, which burnt 
as an oven in my bosom, till all pride and vanity 
were burnt up, my former delights were gone, my 
old heavens were passed away within me, as with 
fire, and I had as much exercise in my mind of 
anguish and sorrow as I could bear, day and night 
for several months, and not a drop of divine comfort. 
I could compare my heart to nothing, unless it were 
a coal of fire, or a hot iron j no brokenness of heart 
or tenderness of spirit ; although I cried to God con- 
tinually in the deep distress of my soul, yet not one 
tear could issue from my eyes. Oh ! the days of 
sorrow and nights of anguish that I went through, 
no tongue can utter, nor heart conceive which hath 
not gone through the like. I could have wished I 
had been some other creature, that I might not have 
known such anguish and sorrow ; for I thought all 
other creatures were in their proper places. But my 
troubles were aggravated by the strong oppression 
and temptation of Satan, who was very unwilling to 



62 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

lose his subject : so he raised all his forces, and made 
use of all his armour which he had in the house : 
and I found him to be like a strong man armed in- 
deed ; for he would not suffer me to enter into resig- 
nation, but would have me look into mysteries that 
appertain to salvation, with an eye of carnal reason. 
And because I could not so comprehend, he caused 
me to question the truth of all things that are left 
upon record in the Holy Scriptures, and would have 
persuaded me into the Jews' opinion concerning 
Christ ; and many other baits and resting places he 
laid before me. But my soul hungered after the 
true bread, the bread of life, which came from God 
out of heaven, which Christ testified of, (see John vi. 
beginning at the 27th verse, to the end), which I had 
felt near, and my soul had tasted of. And although 
the devil prompted me with his temptations, my soul 
could not feed on them, but cried continually, " Thy 
presence, Lord ! or else 1 die — Oh ! let me feel thy 
saving arm, or else I perish — Lord ! give me faith." 

Thus was my soul exercised in earnest supplica- 
tions unto God night and day ; and yet I went about 
my outward occasions, and made my complaint to none 
but God only. And I have often since considered that 
the subtle serpent finds suitable baits for the soul that 
can be content to feed on any thing below the enjoy- 
ment of God. So having known the terrors of God 
and the subtle wiles of Satan, I am concerned some- 
times to persuade people to repent, and to warn them 
to flee from the wrath to come. 

Now all my faith which I had before, whilst in 
disobedience, proved like building on a sandy foun- 
dation. All the comfort I used to have in reading 
the Scriptures, was taken away ; and I durst not read 
for some time, because it added to my condemnation. 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BCEHM. 63 

So I was left to God alone^ who caused me to feel a 
little hope at times, like a glimmering of light under- 
neath my troubles, which was some stay to my mind : 
if it had not been so, I had fallen into despair. But 
I much desired to be brought through my troubles 
the right way, and not to shake off or get over them 
in my own time. I had not freedom to make known 
my condition to any person ; for I used to think, if 
the Lord did not help me, in vain was the help of 
man : and I have since seen that it was well I did 
not, on several accounts ; for I might have come to a 
loss if I had done so, as it was the will of God to 
humble me, and to turn up and throw down all that 
which might be imputed to man or self, that I might 
know the work or building of the Lord to be. raised 
from the foundation of his own power, where there is 
none of man's building ; that all the glory might be 
given to him alone. For we are very apt to say in 
effect, " I am of Paul, I am of Apollos, I am of Cephas^ 
and I of Christ," as if Christ was divided : but the 
Lord will not give his glory to another, nor his praise 
to graven images. For as thou, my friend, well 
observest, the chief that we ought to labour for, is to 
make people sensible of their corruption, to direct 
them to the word nigh, and to be good examples to 
them. 

So, in the Lord's due and appointed time, when he 
had seen my suffering of that fiery kind to be suf- 
ficient, he was pleased to cause his divine love to flow 
in my bosom in an extraordinary manner ; and the 
Holy Spirit of divine light and life did overcome my 
soul. Then a divine sense and understanding was 
given me by which to know r the power and also the 
love of God, in sending his only Son out of his bosom 
into the world, to take upon him a body of flesh, 



64 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

wherein he did go through the whole process of suf- 
fering for the salvation of mankind ; and so did break 
through and break open the gates of death, and re- 
paired the breach that old Adam had made between 
God and man, and restored the path for souls to come 
to God. 

And the Almighty was pleased at that time to 
make my simple soul sensible, that he did send the 
spirit of his Son into my heart, in order to lead me 
through the process of his suffering ; that as he died 
for sin, so I might die to sin, by bearing the daily 
cross, and living in self-denial, humility, and obedience 
to God, my Heavenly Father, in all things he should 
require of me. And then the baptism of the Holy 
Ghost, compared to water as well as fire, my soul came 
to witness ; and the ministration of judgment and 
condemnation I saw had a glory in it, which made 
way for the ministration of life. The axe of God's 
word was laid to the evil root of the tree, and the 
voice of him who preached repentance my soul heard, 
that called for the mountains to be laid low, and the 
valleys to be raised, viz. the mountains of my natural 
temper, that a plain way might be made for the ran- 
somed soul to walk in. And the Lord shewed me 
how John the Baptist came to be counted the greatest 
prophet that was born of a woman, viz. because he 
was the forerunner of Jesus Christ, and is rightly 
termed the mourner, and how the least in the king- 
dom of heaven is greater than he that is under his 
ministration only, which was to decrease ; but the 
ministration of Jesus was to increase, whose baptism 
is with the Holy Ghost and with fire, and he will 
thoroughly purge his floor. Then I came to witness 
that it is indeed the work of God to believe rightly 
and truly on Him whom God hath sent ; that this 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BGEHM. 65 

purifying, saving faith is the gift of God, and the 
very spring and vital principle of it, divine love. 
Then I mourned over Him whom I had pierced with 
my unbelief and hardness of heart ; and I did eat . 
my bread with weeping, and mingled my drink with 
tears. 

I was between nineteen and twenty years of age 
when these great conflicts were on my mind : by 
them I was brought very humble ; and I entered 
into solemn covenant with God Almighty, that I 
would answer his requirings, if it were to the laying 
down my natural life. But when it was showed me 
that I ought to take up the cross in a little thing, I 
had like to have hearkened to the reasoner again, and 
been disobedient in the day of small things : for 
although I had gone through so much inward exer- 
cise, yet I was afraid of displeasing my superiors, 
being then a servant to great persons. It was shewn 
me, that I should not give flattering titles to man ; 
and I was threatened inwardly, that if I would not 
be obedient to the Lord's requirings, he would take 
away his good Spirit from me again. So I was in a 
strait ] I was afraid of displeasing God, and afraid of 
displeasing man ; till at last I was charged by the 
Spirit, with honouring man more than God : for in 
my address to God I did use the plain language, but 
when I spoke to man or woman I must speak other- 
wise, or else they would be offended. Some would 
argue, that God Almighty being that only One, 
therefore the singular language was proper to him 
alone ; and man being made up of compound matter, 
the plural language was more proper to him, &c. 
Oh ! the subtle twistings of proud Lucifer that I have 
seen, would be too large to insert ; but although God 
Almighty is that only One, yet is he the Being of all 



66 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

beings, for in him we live, move, and have our being. 
But let the cover be what it would, I had Scripture 
on my side, which they called their rule ; and I knew 
proud man disdained to receive that language from 
an inferior, which he gave to the Almighty. So it 
became a great cross to me : but it was certainly a 
letting thing in the way of the progress of my soul, 
until I gave up to the Lord's requirings in this small 
thing. These things I signify to thee, dear friend, 
in great simplicity, that thou mayst see how the Lord 
leads out of the vain customs that are in the world, 
not only in what I have mentioned, but also in many 
other things ; and into that humble, self-denying 
way which Christ both taught and practised, when he 
was visible among men. Christ is the true christians' 
pattern, and his Spirit their leader. 

And now I shew thee this in truth and sincerity, 
because I would not be misunderstood by thee, viz. 
1 am a single soul, wholly devoted to the Lord, and 
so do not plead for a form for form's sake ; neither do 
I plead for a people as a people ; for we are grown to 
be a mixed multitude, much like the children of 
Israel, when they were in the wilderness. But this I 
may say to the praise and glory of God, the principle 
that we make profession of, is the very Truth, viz. 
Christ in the male and in the female, the hope of 
glory : and Christ, thou knowest, is the Way, the 
Truth, and the Life, and none comes to God but by 
him. So there is a remnant, who, like Joshua and 
Caleb of old, are true to the Lord their spiritual 
Leader, and follow him faithfully; and they stand 
clear in their testimonies against all dead formalities, 
which are but as images, when the vital principle, 
viz. the divine love is withdrawn. And yet as the 
spirit of Jesus leads out of all vain customs and 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BCEHM. 67 

traditions which are in the world, and into the 
plain, humble, meek, self-denying life and conversa- 
tion which Christ walked in while he was visible 
among men, I could wish all to follow the leadings of 
his Spirit herein, that thereby they may confess him 
before men. But if it please the Almighty to accept 
of souls, without leading them through such fiery 
trials as he brought me through, or without requiring 
such things of them as he required of me, far be it 
from me to judge that such have not known the Lord, 
or the indwellings of his love, if the fruits of the 
spirit of Jesus be plain upon them : for every tree is 
known by its fruits, and to our own master we must 
stand or fall. But dear friend, as thou well ob- 
servedst, purification is a gradual work — I may say so 
by experience : for when the old adversary could no 
longer draw me out into vain talking and foolish 
jesting, then he perplexed me with vain thoughts ; 
some of which were according to my natural disposi- 
tion, and some of them quite contrary. Oh ! I cried 
mightily unto the Lord for power over vain thoughts ; 
for they were a great trouble to me ; and I stood in 
great fear lest one day or other I should fall by the 
hand of the enemy. But the Lord spake comfortably 
to my soul in his own words left upon record, " Fear 
not, little flock, it is your Father's good pleasure to 
give you the kingdom ;" and the Lord gave me an 
evidence along with it, that my soul was one of that 
little flock. Another time, when I was very low in 
my mind, these words sprang with life and virtue, 
viz. " Although thou hast lain amongst the pots, yet 
I will give thee the wings of a dove, covered with 
silver, and her feathers of yellow gold." Oh ! it was 
wonderfully comfortable to me when the Holy Ghost 
did bring a promise to my rememberance, and gave 

f 2 



68 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

me an evidence that it was my portion. So I pondered 
on this, concerning " the wings of a dove," and I 
thought it must needs be the wing of innocehcy, 
whereby my soul might ascend unto God by prayer, 
meditation, and divine contemplation. I took delight 
to pray in secret and fast in secret, from the secret 
outgoings of my mind as well as I could, and my 
Heavenly Father who seeth and heareth in secret, did 
reward me openly. For then, when I went to meet- 
ings, I did not sit in darkness, dryness and barrenness, 
as I used to do in the times of my disobedience ; but 
I did reap the benefit of the end of the coming of 
Christ, who said, " The thief cometh not, but for to 
steal, and to kill, and to destroy : I am come that 
they might have life, and that they might have it 
more abundantly." The thief had, in the time of my 
disobedience, stolen my soul from Jesus, who said, 
" Whoso loveth father or mother, &c, or his own life 
more than me, is not worthy of me." So it had been 
with me, and I missed the benefit of reaping the end 
of his coming, for several years ; but he in mercy 
being returned, afforded my bowed-down soul the 
enjoyment of his divine presence, and was pleased to 
cause his love, (which is the true life of the soul,) so 
to abound in my bosom in meetings, that my cup 
did overflow. And I was constrained, under a sense 
of duty, to kneel down in the congregation, and con- 
fess to the goodness of God, also to pray to him for 
the continuation of it, and for power whereby I 
might be enabled to walk worthy of so great a favour, 
benefit and mercy, that I had received at his bounti- 
ful hand. And I remember after I had made public 
confession to the goodness of God, my soul was as if 
it had been in another world : it was so enlightened 
and enlivened by the divine love, that I was in love 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BCEHM. 69 

with the whole creation of God, and I saw every 
thing to be good in its place. I was shewed things 
ought to be kept in their proper places, that the 
swine ought not to come into the garden, and the 
clean beasts ought not to be taken into the bed- 
chamber ; that as it was in the outward, so it ought 
to be in the inward and new creation. So every 
thing began to preach to me ; the very fragrant herbs, 
and beautiful, innocent flowers had a speaking voice 
in them to my soul, and things seemed to have 
another relish with them than before. The judg- 
ments of God were sweet to my soul, and I was 
made to call to others sometimes, to come taste and 
see how good the Lord is, and to exhort them to 
prove the Lord, by an obedient, humble, innocent 
walking before him, and then they would see that 
he would pour out of his spiritual blessings in so 
plentiful a manner, that there would not be room 
enough to contain them ; but the overflowings would 
return to him who is the Fountain, with thanks- 
givings, &c. And I was made to warn people, that 
they should not provoke the Lord by disobedience : 
for although he bears and suffers long, as he did with 
the rebellious Israelites in the wilderness, yet such 
shall know him to be a God of justice and judgment, 
and shall be made so to confess one day. 

Thus, dear friend, I have given thee a plain, but 
true account of my qualification and call to the ser- 
vice of the ministry. But it was several years before 
I came to a freed state, or even temper of mind ; for 
sometimes clouds would arise and interpose between 
my soul and the rising Sun, and I was brought down 
into the furnace often, and found by experience that 
every time my soul was brought down as into the 
furnace of affliction, that it did still come up more 



70 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

clean and bright ; and although the cloud did inter- 
pose between me and the rising Sun, yet when the 
Sun of Righteousness did appear again, he brought 
healing as under his wings, and was nearer than be- 
fore. Thus dear friend, I express things in simplicity, 
as they were represented to me in the manifestation 
of them in the morning of my days. I came to love 
to dwell with judgment, and used often to pray, 
saying, " Lord ! search me and try me, for thou 
knowest my heart better than I know it ; and I pray 
thee let no deceitfulness of unrighteousness lodge 
therein ; but let thy judgments pass upon every 
thing that is contrary to thy pure, divine nature." 
Thus my soul used to breathe to the Lord continu- 
ally, and hunger and thirst after a more full enjoy- 
ment of his presence. Although he is a consuming 
fire to the corrupt nature of the old man, yet my 
soul loved to dwell with him. I found many sorts 
of corruptions would be endeavouring to spring up 
again ; but I resigned up my mind to the Lord, with 
desires that he would feed me with food convenient 
for me. And this I can say by experience, that the 
soul that is born of God doth breathe to him as con- 
stantly by prayer, as the sucking child, when it is 
born into the world, doth draw in and breathe out 
the common air ; even so the child of God doth draw 
in and breathe forth the breath of life, by which 
man was made a living soul to God. And this 
breathing that is pure and divine, all that are in the 
old man or fallen nature, know nothing of; it is a 
mystery to them ; but the babe in Christ knows it to 
be true. And although the children in our Father's 
family are of several ages, growths or statures, both 
in strength and understanding, yet this I have ob- 
served in all my travels, that those who live to God, 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM B(EHM. 71 

continue in a state of breathing to him while here, 
and hunger and thirst after a more full enjoyment of 
his divine presence ; that as every day brings us 
nearer to the grave, so every day the soul may be 
brought into a more divine union and communion 
with God. It is a certain sign to me, of the divine 
life and health of a soul, if I find it sweetly breathing 
unto the Lord, and hungering and thirsting after his 
righteousness. And it is very evidently seen, and 
easily known by the conversation of persons, what 
manner of spirit doth govern in them ; although 
many will not believe these things if declared to 
them ; neither will they try whether it be so or not, 
but they are satisfied with the husk of religion. Oh ! 
what will they do when the rudiments and beggarly 
elements of this world fall off, and all our works 
must pass through the fire : my very soul mourns for 
them ; but we must press forwards and leave them, 
if they will not arise out of their false rest. 

Dear friend, as thou well observest, it is a great 
help to the soul to know its own corruptions, and 
from whence it is fallen, that it may know whither 
to return. These things are very true ; the know- 
ledge of them hath been a great comfort to me, and 
so have the experiences of the servants of the Lord, 
agreeably to the testimonies left on record, which are 
as waymarks to the spiritual traveller ; and we have 
a great privilege in and by them : but above all in 
and by Christ our holy Pattern and heavenly Leader, 
who hath said, " My judgment is just, because I seek 
not mine own will, but the will of the Father which 
hath sent me." My soul prizeth the knowledge of 
his footsteps, the leading of his Spirit, the Spirit of 
Truth, the Comforter, whom the Father hath sent, to 
lead us into all truth. And saith my soul, that 



72 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

we may follow the leadings of our unerring 'Guide in 
all things that he may lead us into ! I have good 
cause to believe, he will bring us through all tribula- 
tions to the honour of God and our comfort : for the 
Lord hath brought my soul through many trials, one 
after another, as he saw meet, some more of which I 
may give a hint of, viz. : — 

After my inward tribulation was abated, then out- 
ward trials began ; for there were some of no small 
account, that endeavoured with all their might and 
cunning, to hinder the work from prospering in me : 
and as Saul hunted David, and sought to take away 
his natural life, so these hunted my soul to take away 
its life, which it had in God : but all wrought to- 
gether for my good. I have often seen, and there- 
fore may say, the Lord knoweth what is best for his 
children, better than we know for ourselves : and so 
my enemies, instead of driving my soul away from 
God, drove it nearer to him. This trial caused me to 
prove the spirit which had the exercise of my mind, 
and I found it to be the Spirit of Truth, which the 
worldly and self-minded cannot receive ; for I found 
the nature of it to be harmless and holy, and to lead 
me to love mine enemies, to pity them and pray for 
them. This love was my preservation ; and as I 
gave up in obedience to the operation and requiring 
of this meek Spirit, it ministered such peace to my 
soul, as the world cannot give. But there was a 
disposition in me to please all, which I found very 
hard for me to be weaned from, so as to stand single 
to God : for when I did fear man, I had nothing but 
anguish and sorrow ; and I used often to walk alone 
and pour out my complaint to the Lord. But after 
a long time, when the Lord had tried my fidelity to 
him as he saw meet, one day as I was sitting in a 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BCEHM. 73 

meeting in silence, waiting upon the Lord, to know 
my strength renewed in him and by him, this por- 
tion of Scripture was given to me, viz. " Comfort ye 
my people, saith your God : speak comfortably to 
Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is 
accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned ; for she 
hath received of the Lord's hand double for all her 
sins." This brought great comfort to my soul ; I 
treasured it in my heart, and made this observa- 
tion, that from that time the Lord gave my soul (as 
the apostle Peter expresses it), a more abundant en- 
trance into the heavenly kingdom or New Jerusalem, 
whose walls are salvation and her gates praise ; my 
mind was brought into more stillness, and trouble- 
some thoughts were in a good degree expelled ; my 
outward enemies grew weary of their work and failed 
of their hope. The praise 1 freely, in great humility, 
offer up and ascribe to Almighty God ; for it was his own 
work to preserve me from many strong temptations. 

So after I had [been favoured with] peace at home 
every way, I was drawn by the Spirit of love, to travel 
into the north of England. On my journey my soul 
had many combats with the evil spirit : when I was 
asleep he tormented me as long as he could. I have, 
indeed, had a long war with the devil many ways ; 
abundance of courage was given to me to make war 
with him ; and I always gained the victory when 
cowardly, fearful nature was asleep, which was com- 
fortable to my mind : and I did hope that the Lord 
would give me perfect victory over the devil when I 
was awake, as he had let me see it to be so when I was 
asleep. The Spirit which led me forth, was to me 
like a needle of a compass, touched with a loadstone ; 
for so it pointed where I ought to go, and when I 
came to the far end of the journey. 



74 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

In those days I had certain manifestations of many 
things in dreams, which did come to pass according to 
their significations ; I was many times . forewarned of 
enemies, and so was better able to guard against them. 
I travelled in great fear and humility, and the Lord 
was with me to his glory and my comfort, and brought 
me home again in peace. 

In the year 1697, in the Sixth Month, as I was 
sitting in the meeting in Gloucester, which was then 
the place of my abode, my mind was gathered into 
perfect stillness for some time, and my spirit was 
as if it had been carried away into America ; and 
after it returned, my heart was as if it had been dis- 
solved with the love of God, which flowed over the 
great ocean, and I was constrained to kneel down and 
pray for the seed of God in America, The concern 
never went out of my mind day nor night, until I 
went to travel there in the love of God, which is so 
universal that it reaches over sea and land. But 
when I looked at my concern with an eye of human 
reason, it seemed to be very strange and hard to me ; 
for I knew not the country, nor any that dwelt 
therein. I reasoned much concerning my own unfit- 
ness, and when I let in such reasonings, I had nothing 
but death and darkness ; and trouble attended my 
mind : but when I resigned up my all to the Lord, 
and gave up in my mind to go, then the divine love 
sprang up in my heart, and my soul was at liberty to 
worship the Lord as in the land of the living. Thus 

tried and proved the concern in my own heart, 
all at last these words ran through my mind with 
authority, — " The fearful and unbelieving shall have 
their portion with the hypocrite, in the lake that 
burns with fire and brimstone ; which is the second 
death." This brought a dread ; I then told my hus- 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BCEHM. 75 

band that I had a concern to go to America ; and 
asked him if he could give me up. He said he hoped 
it would not. be required of me ; but I told him it 
was ; and that I should not go without his free con- 
sent, which seemed a little hard to him at first. A 
little while after, I was taken with a violent fever, 
which brought me so weak, that all who saw me 
thought I should not recover. But I thought my 
day's work was not done, and my chief concern in my 
sickness was about going to America. Some were 
troubled that I had made it public, because they 
thought I should die, and people would speak re- 
proachfully of me ; and said, if I did recover, the 
ship would be ready to sail before I should be fit to 
go, &c. But I thought if they would only carry me 
and lay me down in the ship, I should be well : for 
the Lord was very gracious to my soul in the time of 
my sickness, and gave me a promise that his presence 
should go with me. And then my husband was made 
very willing to give me up ; he said, if it were for 
seven years, rather than to have me taken from him 
for ever. So at last all those difficulties passed over, 
and I sailed from Bristol in the Ninth Month, 1697, 
with my companion Mary Rogers. The dangers we 
were in at sea, and the faith and courage the Lord 
gave to my soul, would be too large here to relate ; 
for I had such an evidence of my being in my proper 
place, that the fear of death was taken away. Oh ! 
it is good to trust in the Lord and be obedient to him, 
for his mercies endure for ever. 

About the middle of the Twelfth Month, 1697, 
through the good providence of the Almighty, we 
arrived in Virginia. As I travelled along the country 
from one meeting to another, I observed great num- 
bers of black people that were in slavery. They 



76 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

were a strange people to me; I wanted to know 
whether the visitation of God was to their souls or 
not; and I observed their conversation, to see if I 
could discern any good in them. After I had travelled 
about four weeks, as I was in bed one morning in a 
house in Maryland, after the sun was up I fell into a 
slumber, and dreamed I was a servant in a great man's 
house, and that I was drawing water at a well to wash 
the uppermost rooms of the house. When I was at 
the well, a voice came to me, which bid me go and 
call other servants to help me, and I went presently. 
But as I was going along in a very pleasant green 
meadow, a great light shined about me, which ex- 
ceeded the light of the sun, and I walked in the midst. 
As I went on in the way, I saw a chariot drawn with 
horses coming to meet me, and I was in care lest the 
light that shone about me should frighten the horses, 
and cause them to throw down the people whom I 
saw in the chariot. When I came to them, I looked 
on them, and I knew they were the servants I was 
sent to call : I saw they were both white and black 
people, and I said unto them, " Why have you staid 
so long ?" They said, " The buckets were frozen, we 
could come no sooner" — So I was satisfied the call of 
the Lord was unto the black people as well as the 
white ; and I saw the fulfilling of it in part, before 
I returned out of America, with many more remark- 
able things, which would be too tedious here to 
mention. But how great is the condescension 
and goodness of God to poor mankind ! it is a good 
observation on the tender dealings of our Heavenly 
Father, to set up our Ebenezer, and say, " Hitherto 
hath the Lord helped us :" — and indeed I may say to 
his praise, it hath been [so with me] through many 
straits and difficulties, more than I can number ; and 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM BCEHM. 77 

they have all wrought together for the good of my soul. 
And I have cause to believe, that every son or daughter 
whom he receives, he chastens, tries, and proves ; 
and those who do not bear the chastisements of God, 
do prove bastards and not sons. But I may say, as 
one did of old, " It is good for me that I have been 
afflicted," &c, and that it is good to follow the 
leadings of the Spirit of God, as faithful Abraham 
did, who was called the friend of God, and who did 
not withhold his only son when the Lord called for 
him. And it is my belief the Lord will try his 
chosen ones as gold is tried, and will yet refine them 
as gold is refined. And what if he bring us yet down 
again into the furnace, which way it shall please him, 
until we are seven times refined ; we shall be the 
better able to bear the impression of his image upon 
us in all our conversation. And if the day should 
come, wherein none shall buy nor sell, that have not 
the mark of the beast, either in their right hands 
or in their foreheads, it is but what hath been told 
us beforehand : and those that will know an over- 
coming, it must be by the blood of the Lamb, (viz. 
by abiding in the meek love and suffering seed), and 
by the word of their testimony; not loving their 
lives unto death. We may observe that those who 
had not the mark of the beast in their foreheads, 
if they had it in their right hands it would do ■ 
they could shew it if there was occasion, to take off 
a stroke. 

the mystery of iniquity, how secretly it works ! 
We may well say, the testimony that Jesus bore to 
the Scribe who desired to follow him, is very true — 
" Foxes have holes, and the fowls of the air have 
nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay 
his head." innocent Truth ! plain, meek, 



78 A LETTER FROM ELIZABETH WEBB 

humble Jesus ! Where doth he repose ? Where doth he 
reign without molestation 1 

Dear friend, excuse my freedom with thee, for the 
love of God constraineth me : and I do believe the 
Lord will shew thee yet further, what testimony thou 
must bear for his name, and what thou must suffer 
for his sake, if faithful. For trying times will come, 
and offences will be given and taken ; but there is 
nothing will offend those that love the Lord Jesus 
above all. Many murmured and were offended at 
Jesus when he told them the truth, and that which 
was of absolute necessity for all to know and witness 
in themselves ; as we read in the 6th of John, be- 
ginning at the 32nd verse. By that time he had 
done, many of his disciples went from him : then 
said he to the twelve, " Will ye also go away ? " but 
Peter said, " Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou hast 
the words of eternal life. And we believe and are 
sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living 
God/' So God hath given the faithful to believe ; 
yea, and we are sure that the Spirit of Truth is come, 
that leads the followers of it into all truth ; and that 
Christ who is one with his Spirit, and who was once 
offered to bear the sins of many, has appeared again 
the second time without sin unto salvation. Oh ! 
surely the goodness of God hath been very great to 
the children of men from age to age, and from one 
generation to another, ever since the fall of our first 
parents. The more my mind penetrates into it, the 
more I am like to be swallowed up in admiration of 
his condescension and goodness through all his dis- 
pensations, but above all in the manifestation of Jesus 
Christ, our holy Pattern and heavenly Leader. 
my soul ! praise him for the knowledge of his holy 
footsteps, whom God gave for a light to us Gentiles, 



TO ANTHONY WILLIAM B(EHM. 79 

and to be his salvation unto the ends of the earth ; 
and hath given his Spirit to dwell in us, and accepted 
our souls to dwell in him. admirable goodness ! 
Shall we leave him % He is the Word of eternal life, 
and whither shall we go % So far as any are followers 
of Jesus, so far I desire to follow them or to be one 
with them, and no farther. Let these do what they 
will, if any will go back into the sea, out of which 
the beast ariseth, and receive his mark, our Leader 
is not to be blamed ; He holds on his way, and 
causes his trumpet to be blown in Zion, and an alarm 
to be beaten in his holy mountain : and whosoever 
heareth the sound of the trumpet, and taketh not 
warning, if the sword of the Lord do come, (in any 
kind), and take him away, his blood shall be upon 
his own head; he heard the sound of the trumpet 
and took not warning ; but he that taketh warning 
shall deliver his own soul. Great is the duty of the 
watchman, and great" is the kindness of God as ex- 
pressed in the 33rd chapter of Ezekiel. my dear 
friend ! my heart is full of the goodness of the Lord. 
But I must stop writing, lest I should be tedious to 
thee ; and indeed, it might be accounted foolishness 
for me to write after this manner, to one in thy 
station. But I find a constraint thereto, and must 
commit it to thy judgment, be it what it may : and 
this I will assure thee, my heart is plain ; I mean as 
I speak, and I find it safest so to do, and to keep in 
humble obedience to the Lord in whatsoever he 
requires of me. Yet I know the wisdom of God 
appears to be foolishness in the eyes of the wise men 
of this world, and we know that the wisdom of this 
world is foolishness with God, and will prove so in 
the latter end to those poor souls that so mightily 
esteem it. But the souls of the righteous are in the 



80 ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING LETTER. 

hand of the Lord, and then shall no torment touch 
them ; although in the sight of the unwise, both their 
life and their death are taken for misery — never- 
theless, they are in peace. 

If thou findest anything on thy mind, please to let 
me have it. So in the love that is pure, doth my soul 
greet thee, and remain 

Thy friend in true sincerity, 

Elizabeth Webb. 



THE ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING LETTER. 

Dear Friend, 
I am heartily glad you are come to town again, 
so that I might have an opportunity of seeing you 
before you leave England. Your letter hath been 
read with great satisfaction by my myself and many 
of my friends ; but I have not been able to recover it 
yet, out of their hands. Some have even desired to 
transcribe it for their edification, and this is the 
reason I did not send you presently an answer ; though 
it hath been all along upon my mind to express the 
satisfaction I had at the reading thereof, and to assure 
you how welcome it is to me to meet with a fellow- 
pilgrim travelling to the city adorned with twelve 
pearls, which is to receive all such who have made 
up the family of God in this wicked generation, and 
have been presented for his peculiar people in all 
parts and denominations of Christendom. ... I 
had a mind to have given you at large my thoughts 
upon your letter. True love is of an universal and 
overflowing nature, and not easily shut up by names, 



ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING LETTER. 81 

notions, peculiar modes, forms, and hedges of men ; 
and if you will be pleased to correspond with me, 
even after your return from America, I shall always 
be ready to answer your kindness, and to make up 
again wherein I have been wanting at present ; and 
so recommend you to the infinite favour and protec- 
tion of the Lord. 

I remain in sincerity, 

Your friend and servant, 

Anthony William Bcehm. 



Strand, Jan. 2. 1712. 



MEMOIR 

OF 

J 

EVAN B E V A N, 

WHO DIED AT PONTYMOIL, IN MONMOUTHSHIRE, 

THE lTlH OF THE SECOND MONTH, 1746 ; 



LETTER TO A FRIEND, 



CONTAINING AN 



ACCOUNT OF HIS OOHVINCEMBNT- &C. 



MARK THE PERFECT MAN, AND BEHOLD THE UPRIGHT : FOR THE 
END OF THAT MAS IS PEACE. — PSALM XXXVII. 37- 



MEMOIR OF EVAN BEVAN,* 



WITH HIS 



LETTER TO A FRIEND, GIVING AN ACCOUNT OF 
HIS CONVINCEMENT, &c. 



Evan Bevan was the son of Charles Bevan of 
Lantwit Vardre, in Glamorganshire, and was born 
about the year 1678. His father having determined 
to give him a liberal education, sent him to the 
university of Oxford, where he made considerable 

* W. Sewel, in his History of Friends, designates him "Evan 
Jevans," and it seems, not without some reason: in the Testimony 
of his Monthly Meeting, he is called " Evan Bevan alias Jevans," 
and so he sometimes signed himself, but generally only, " Evan 
Bevan." 




TfrWt 



^fffn/ 







$ti^ */?**» 




86 EVAN bevan's letter 

progress in various parts of literature. He subse- 
quently applied himself to the study and practice of 
the law in Glamorganshire, and served the office of 
deputy-sheriff of that county with reputation. But 
after a time, he was visited in an extraordinary man- 
ner with the convictions of the Holy Spirit ; and 
whilst judgment was thus passing over the trans- 
gressing nature in him, he was brought into deep 
sorrow and anguish, until after long mourning and 
various baptisms, he was favoured to know mercy to 
cover the judgment seat : the Lord was pleased to bind 
up the bruised reed, so that he seemed to be brought 
forth pure, as gold seven times refined, and was made 
a chosen vessel, fit for the great Master's use. 

This part of his religious experience, the manner 
in which he was brought to embrace the principles of 
Friends, and his answers to some charges which appear 
to have been urged against him for so doing, are well 
set forth by himself, in the following 

Letter to a Friend. 

Since it has pleased the Divine Goodness to endue 
me with reason, I heartily thank his most excellent 
Majesty ; and that it has been the further product of 
his good will to give me life and being in that part 
of the world, where I have had the freedom to use it ; 
especially in the choice of my persuasion, and way of 
returning my acknowledgments to him. I wish that 
all who make any pretensions to religion, would make 
use of this noble faculty with subjection to the divine 
will, to determine their choice in this grand affair ; 
and not [be tenacious of] the religion of their edu- 
cation [unlest it] be that of their judgment. If people 
were thus truly wise unto their own salvation, and 



TO A FRIEND. 87 

did not too lazily resign themselves to the conduct 
of their guides, thereby regarding more their ease 
than safety, they would not only be the better able to 
give a reason of the hope that is in them, but they 
would shew more warmth in their devotion, more 
charity in their religion, and more piety in their 
conversation, than at present they do. 

When I was visited some time ago by the chastis- 
ing hand of the Lord, for sin and my disobedience 
to his holy will, I laboured under great affliction of 
mind and anguish of spirit : and though I was con- 
stant above many in my attendance on the public 
prayers of the church, strict in my observance of its 
ceremonies, and exceedingly frequent in the use of 
private devotion, yet my burden increased and I 
waxed worse. 

In this wretched and doleful condition I was, 
when, at a relation's house who had providentially 
returned from Pennsylvania to his native country, I 
lighted upon R. Barclay's Apology for the Quakers; 
by reading which I was well persuaded of their 
principles : and by turning my mind inward to the 
divine gift, (according to their doctrine) it gave me 
victory, in a great measure, over our common enemy, 
banished away my disorderly imaginations, and re- 
stored me to my former regularity. I received such 
comfort and satisfaction to my distressed soul, that 
thereupon I left the church of England, and joined 
myself in society with them : and I am the more con- 
firmed in my change, especially where it respects the 
worship of our Creator, because it is not only the most 
agreeable to the Scriptures of truth, but Heaven has 
given us assurance of its approbation thereof ; it having 
been at times, to my own experience, most powerfully 
attended with the presence of the Most High. 



88 EVAN bevan's letter 

I hope none will grudge me this mercy, because I 
received it not by their ministry ; if they do, I have 
cause to suspect their charity is not of a christian 
latitude, since our blessed Redeemer approved not of 
that narrowness in his disciples in somewhat a like 
case. 

But here, to obviate an objection some may make 
to my change, because of the distress I lay under, and 
the discomposure I was subject to at times, I would 
have it remarked, that I read the said Apology beyond 
my expectation, with more sedateness than usual, and 
a more quiet composure of mind : so that with the 
influence of the Almighty, or Providence, or both, I 
had also the benefit of that distinguishing faculty of 
man [reason] in the change of my opinion. that 
I may never forget the Lord's mercy to my soul ! who 
had compassion on me when I wallowed in my blood, 
and who said to the dry bones, Live. that all such 
as are visited by the chastising hand of their Maker, 
would seriously lay it to heart, and consider their 
own welfare and salvation ! I could wish with all my 
heart, that those who labour under this anxiety of 
mind, would take encouragement to hope in the Lord's 
mercy through their blessed Redeemer, by his kind- 
ness and long forbearance with me. I am a living 
monument of it now ; and I hope I shall be so, while 
he affords me a being here. If these lines should 
come to the hands of any that are afflicted and dis- 
tressed as I was, I have an effectual remedy through 
mercy, to prescribe unto them : Turn your minds 
inward to the grace of God in your own hearts — 
refrain from your own imaginations — be still, and 
quietly resign yourselves to his holy will; so you 
shall find health to your souls, refreshment to your 
spirits, and the sweet consolations of the Lord in your 



TO A FRIEND. 89 

own bosoms : you shall find your mourning turned to 
gladness, and your heaviness to joy. This has been 
my experience of the goodness of the Holy One of 
Israel, who abhors sin and iniquity, therefore I re- 
commend it to you : and I think this is no mistrusting 
of the cause, for they are the sick and wounded in 
spirit, not the whole, that need the Physician. 

As for renouncing the covenant, which I and every 
christian ought to be under, of forsaking the devil 
and all his works, I am so far from entertaining one 
thought of neglecting that duty, that I think myself 
wholly obliged to observe it : and if I should affirm, 
that through the grace of God, and his assistance, 
(for otherwise I am satisfied I cannot do it,) the 
observance of it is possible, I can find no reason why 
it should be false doctrine in a Quaker more than in 
a Churchman. 

As for deserting that church and ministry which 
the Son of God came down from heaven to establish, 
I am not conscious to myself thereof ; for I say, 
Christ himself is the Head of our church, and by his 
Spirit and grace, the Ordainer of our ministry. 

As to the last query my ingenious acquaintance is 
pleased to propose, I do let him know r that my for- 
mer despair and forlorn condition has been, since my 
adhering to that reproached people, changed into a 
sweet enjoyment of the goodness of God. I could 
not conceal the Lord's goodness, lest he should with- 
draw his mercies from me. 

I had no secular interest to corrupt me in this 
change — it is apparent to many, I declined it : but 
as it was peace wdth God my Maker, and mercy to 
my soul I wanted, so having found the pearl of great 
price among them, I parted with all to purchase it ; 
or rather, I was restored to all, (I mean the enjoy- 



90 MEMOIR OF EVAN BEVAN. 

ment of the divine goodness and of myself,) by setting 
a due value upon it. 



This Letter presents lively traces of humility, sin- 
cerity, disinterestedness, meekness and modesty, which 
qualities seem to have been conspicuous in the cha- 
racter of the writer. For although qualified by his 
abilities both natural and acquired, to occupy a pro- 
minent station in civil and religious society, yet he 
declined rather than courted popularity, and sought 
in a retired life, to shew himself approved unto God, 
to experience a growth in grace, and to be made a 
partaker of solid peace of mind. He was engaged at 
times, during the last twenty years of his life, as a 
minister of the gospel, chiefly it is believed in the 
place and neighbourhood of his residence ; and his 
brethren were often edified and profitably affected, 
not only by his lively ministry, but also by the awful, 
weighty frame of his spirit, manifested in the solid 
gravity of his countenance, as he sat in religious 
meetings, feeding in solemn silence on the bread of 
life. And when from the fulness of his heart, his 
mouth was opened to minister, his words were few 
and savoury, seasoned with grace, to the affecting of 
the hearts of the well-minded, but to the disappoint- 
ment of some, who knowing his talents, expected to 
hear lengthened discourses delivered in elegant lan- 
guage. For, abiding under the power of the cross of 
Christ, as in his general conduct, so particularly in 
the exercise of his gift in the ministry, his aim was 
of a higher nature than to attract the admiration of 
men ; the unity of the brethren in the bond of peace 
— the edifying them in love — and the approbation of 
his Maker for the discharge of his duty in simplicity 



MEMOIR OF EVAN BE VAN. 91 

and godly sincerity, were the important ends which 
he had in view. He could therefore acknowledge 
with the apostle 1 Cor. ii. 1 — 5, " I came not with 
excellency of speech, or of wisdom, declaring unto 
you the testimony of God \ for I determined not to 
know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and 
him crucified. And my speech and my preaching 
was not with the enticing words of man's wisdom, 
but in the demonstration of the Spirit and of power. 
That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of 
men, but in the power of God." 

He was pressing with Friends to be faithful towards 
God in the various branches of our christian testi- 
mony; and especially to keep clear from the anti- 
christian yoke of tithes ; and would often exhort 
them to be thankful to God for the manifold mercies 
received and enjoyed, and particularly for the privilege 
of meeting together without interruption in order to 
perform divine worship • also to consider what hard- 
ships and sufferings our worthy ancestors were exposed 
to on this account. So good an example of diligence 
was he in the discharge of this important duty, that 
the Friends among whom he resided could not re- 
member that he ever missed the attendance of one 
meeting, except on account of illness. 

After he had united in religious fellowship with 
Friends, he employed himself in the education of 
youth, and kept a school in their meeting-house at 
Pontymoil thirty-five years. He instructed his 
pupils in the useful parts of literature, as Latin, 
Greek and Geography, with various branches of the 
Mathematics ; but he was chiefly concerned that they 
might be imbued with the love of virtue, and that by 
having religious impressions fixed on their tender 
minds, they might be preserved in innocence. He 



92 MEMOIR OF EVAN BE VAN. 

conscientiously declined instructing them in the 
heathen authors, lest they should acquire a disrelish 
for the principles of true Christianity. It was his 
general practice to assemble his family and the 
scholars in the evening, for the purpose of waiting 
upon the Lord in silence, thus initiating them in 
serious meditation and retiredness of mind ; and as 
he felt his way open, encouraged them in the per- 
formance of their moral and religious duties — parti- 
cularly this of waiting in silence ; laying before them 
the benefit arising from this practice, as affording 
facility for seeking after that divine influence which 
would season their minds with profitable consider- 
ations, and strengthen them to draw near to their 
Heavenly Father, with the prevailing language which 
proceeds from the heart, when it is awakened to a 
feeling sense of what it stands in need of. 

He officiated as clerk of the Monthly Meeting to 
which he belonged, during most of the time he lived 
at Pontymoil, and was very exemplary in the dis- 
charge of those duties which devolved upon him con- 
nected with the discipline, condescending to the 
weakest member in charity, good-will, and pure love. 
His meekness, patience and forbearance towards such 
as by their unguarded conduct had incurred the cen- 
sure of the church, were conspicuous ; and the mild 
manner in which he treated them, has reached some 
and brought them to a sense of their deviations. 

In addition to many other services which he 
rendered to the church, he was frequently engaged 
with other Friends, in visiting the families of the 
Monthly Meeting to which he belonged. 

His susceptible mind was sorrowfully affected on 
account of various unseemly and immoral practices 
which prevailed around him, as " Horse-racing " 



MEMOIR OF EVAN BE VAN. " 93 

" Cock-fighting/' " Common Harvest Shouting," 
" Profane Swearing," &c, &c. ; and he felt it to be 
his religious duty, from time to time, to manifest his 
concern for the true welfare of his countrymen, by 
writing dissuasives from such practices. These papers 
he was accustomed to submit to the consideration of 
his friends ; and they generally directed them to be 
printed * 

* The following copy of a minute of the Monthly Meeting, 
under date of Tenth Month 2nd, 1730, is a specimen of these 
proceedings, and will serve to introduce the narrative to which 
the latter part of the minute refers — 

" Evan Bevan proposed the printing of his Paper against Pro- 
fane Swearing and Cursing, and taking the Lord's holy name in 
vain ; and it was assented to print [it]. 

" It is- desired that the Paper also which he wrote concerning 
the affliction and trouble our friend Joseph John fell under, on his 
dy'mg bed, on the account of his wife paying the tithe for him 
clandestinely, may be printed." 

A short Narrative of our Friend J. John's affliction and 
trouble on account of his wife's paying the tithe. 
Joseph John of Trevthin, in the county of Monmouth, a Friend 
of sober life and conversation, well reported of in the world, and 
of good esteem among Friends, held a faithful testimony against 
anti-christian tithe before his marriage, and although afterwards 
he paid it not, yet inasmuch as he allowed his wife, through his 
too great indulgence to her, both to pay it herself and out of 
his stock to reimburse her relations who privily paid it for her, 
he fell under great exercise of mind and distress for the same, 
on his death-bed. He had often spoken to her about it from time 
to time since their marriage, but towards the latter end of his 
days, he had quite omitted to do so. "When on his death-bed, he 
spoke to her to this effect : " I am jealous some body or other has 
paid the tithe, or else they would not leave me alone more than 
others. The Lord will pass by thee — it was I who was in fault : 
but I thought to win thee by tenderness : yet now it is a burden 
to me ; dost thou not pity me ?" " Yes," said she, " if T could, 
I would help thee." " God !" said he, " what shall I do ?'.' 
Then she and others endeavoured to comfort him. But he said 



94 MEMOIR OF EVAN SEVAN. 

His friends were affectionately attached to him ; 
and regarded him as a tender nursing father in Israel 
— an elder and pillar in the church, worthy of double 
honour — one who exercised the oversight thereof, not 
as a lord over the heritage, but as an example to the 
flock. He was a man of very tender conscience, 
strict over himself, and ready to confess his faults to 
his brethren. 

His conduct corresponded with his doctrine and 
the principles which he professed : in his conversa- 
tion he was affable and engaging, instructive and 
edifying. His surviving friends manifested their 
estimation of his character and exemplary walk by 

again to her, " if thou hadst hearkened unto me formerly" — and 
she being conscious that she had erred in not doing soj pleaded 
that she then saw no evil in the payment. " I am a hypocrite," 
said he, " I should not care if all the world knew it." " 0," said 
some of the standers-by, " you are no such man, you ought not 
to be cast down." " It is no matter to me," said he, " if all the 
world spoke well of me, if God rejects me ; or if God receives me, 
if all the world spoke ill of me. I desire the tithe-mongers would 
return the money that has been paid them, and let them come and 
take it openly, or distrain my goods according to the course of the 
law ; — but it will be a great matter if they will." His wife was 
sorely grieved that she had been the occasion of this grief and 
exercise to her husband ; and his brother-in-law who had paid the 
tithe for her, commiserating his condition, went to the receivers of 
the tithe to desire them to refund the money. One of them was 
very compassionate and readily restored his share, adding withal, 
that he remitted him with all his heart ; the others likewise, in 
pity to his afflicted condition, sent their shares of the money to 
him. When the afflicted Friend heard of it, he said, " Well, 
they were kind ! tell them I thank them." His wife being very 
desirous to know the state of his mind, would be asking him now 
and then, how he was? Once he answered, " I am almost gone 
through the crowd ;" and a few days before his departure, he said, 
" Well, now I have nothing to do but to return thanks : the Lord 
works his work without deceit ; blessed be his holy name for 
ever !" 



MEMOIR OF EVAN BEVAN. 95 

testifying concerning him, " His memory is dear to 
us; and being dead, he yet speaketh." 

Thus having denied himself and taken up the cross 
to the riches, honours, and preferments of this world, 
with the pomps and pleasures thereof, he looked 
forward with patience and humble confidence, to the 
prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus, and 
finished his course in this world in peace the 17th of 
the Second Month, 1746, aged about 67 years. His 
remains were interred in Friends' burying-ground at 
Pontymoil aforesaid, and his funeral was attended 
by a numerous company of most persuasions and 
ranks in life. 

As all things work wonderfully where obedience is given to the 
will and requirings of the Lord, so the present case is a special 
instance of his goodness. His wife is brought under a right sense 
of her error and wrong-doing, being not only grieved, as aforesaid, 
for causing that sore exercise to her husband, but also resolved to 
bear a faithful testimony against that oppressive yoke of tithe for 
the time to come. And whereas before, she absented herself 
from meetings for discipline, she now heartily joins her beloved 
sisters therein, and takes a part with them in those affairs of the 
church which concern the prosperity of the blessed Truth. 

Blessed and praised be the Lord's most holy, most worthy and 
most excellent name, for his merciful dealings with the sons and 
daughters of men ; and let all the world sav, Amen, Amen, 

E. B. 

ith of the Seventh Month, 1726. 



AN ACCOUNT 



CONVINCEMENT AND CALL TO THE MINISTRY 

OF 

/ 

MARGARET LUCAS, 

WHO DIED AT LEEK, IN STAFFORDSHIRE, 
the 24th of the sixth month, 1769, 



i will bring the blind by a way that they knew 
not. — Isaiah xlii. 16. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The following pages contain the substance of a 
Letter from the author to a relation : some of her 
family and several Friends who have seen them, 
apprehend that they contain much instruction to the 
christian traveller, who hath " put his hand to the 
plough/' They hold forth encouragement to bow 
under the earliest impressions of the power of the 
Most High, to be attentive to the Shepherd's voice, 
and to suffer all within them to be humbled in sub- 
mission to his requirings. They show how important 
it is for those who, like the writer of this narrative, 
have purchased an inheritance in righteousness, to 
take heed that they do not let go their hold, but 
attend to the injunction of the wise man, "Buy the 
truth, and sell it not." And they are a call on those 
who have a birthright in our religious society, to 
prize their privilege ; seeing the instance before us 
is a proof, among many, of the difficulties and trials 
through which those have to pass, who are called out 
of the world, to be faithful labourers in the heavenly 
vineyard. 

From the following lively specimen, it is to be 
regretted that no further documents are to be found 
of the religious progress of this our dear friend, who 
lived and died respected and beloved. 

h 2 



THE TESTIMONY 

Of the Friends of the Quarterly Meeting of Stafford- 
shire, held by adjournment at Leek, the 3rd of the Fifth 
Month, 1770. 



Margaret Lucas, of Leek, was educated in the 
national worship ; and, being religiously inclined in 
her youth, she strictly conformed to the external 
rites and ceremonies thereof ; but finding them un- 
availing to obtain that peace of soul she sought after, 
was engaged to frequent our meetings ; in which she 
persevered, amidst the opi30sition and cruel treat- 
ment of her relations. 

For several years she appeared, at times, [as a 
minister,] in a few words, to the satisfaction of 
Friends. Whilst of ability, she was a diligent at- 
tender of our meetings ; and sometimes under much 
weakness and infirmity of body ; she was also ex- 
emplary in observing the time appointed. With 
becoming composure and resignation of mind, she 
submitted to the severity of a long and painful dis- 
order ; and calmly departed this life the 24th, and 
was interred in Friends' burying-ground at Leek, the 
26th of the Sixth Month, 1769, aged near 68 years. 



AN ACCOUNT 

OF 

THE CONVINCEMENT, & o. 

OF 

MARGARET LUCAS.* 



I was born in the year 1701, in Fleet-street, 
London ; my father, whose name was James Brindley, 
kept a. china-shop at the corner of Fetter-lane. I 
was the youngest of fourteen children : my mother 
died when I was one year and a half old ; after which 
my father removed to Vauxhall, where he erected a 
pottery, for making Dutch or stone ware, and mar- 
ried a second wife, who, dying before him, left two 
children. When I was about seven years old, my 
father died, leaving six orphans, two of them younger 
than myself, with no other relation that we knew of, 
except my aunt, who was my father's sister, and mar- 
ried the person hereafter mentioned as my uncle. My 
father dying without a will, left things in disorder ; 
and Elias Turner, who was one of the three directors 
of the South Sea Company, being the greatest 
creditor, sent for my uncle from Leek to London, and 
advised him to act as guardian for us. Three of us, 
at my fathers death, were under the care of his house- 
keeper, the wife of one of his clerks. She was very 
careful over us, and brought us up strictly in the 

* This Account was originally edited by Frederick Smith, the 
Friend whose "Memoirs," &c. conclude the present volume : two 
editions of it were published in the year 1797. 



102 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

Protestant religion. My eldest sister, being weakly, 
lived much with my aunt in the country, except in 
the time of her education ; and my little brother and 
sister were taken down to Leek by my aunt, on her 
return from visiting us, after my father's death ; but 
the little boy did not live long. My uncle had a 
mind, at this time, to bring me down also, saying 
that, upon seeing my innocent amusements, he had a 
particular respect for me ; but Elias Turner would 
not consent to it, and I, with my brother and sister, 
continued under the care of the housekeeper some 
years longer. My uncle at times repeating his desire 
to have us with him, and it being left to my choice, 
in the year 1713 I came down. 

I had conceived the country to be a more delightful 
place than I at first found it ; and I expressed to the 
maid, that accompanied me, my dissatisfaction and 
disappointment. She staid with me till the return 
of the coach, and left me a little sad : yet my uncle 
and aunt were full of love towards me, and I was 
careful of my expressions on the difference of situa- 
tion. But what added to my grief at this juncture 
was the behaviour of my eldest sister, whom I did 
not remember to have seen before my coming down : 
she gave my uncle so much uneasiness, that he sent 
her out of the town ; and, though he strove to pre- 
vent it, she married his apprentice, and never was 
re-admitted to his house while I lived there. On 
occasion of this, and the irksomeness of my situation, 
my uncle thought proper to board me at school, 
though not altogether on account of my learning, for 
I was then thought dexterous beyond most of my 
years ; and indeed, from a child, there was a flexi- 
bility in my temper, which, like the softened wax, 
seemed fit for impression and improvement. My 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 103 

uncle concluded that I might meet with something- 
there to improve and divert my mind, though I 
concealed my sorrow to the best of my power. He 
took me to governess Hyde's, in order to board me 
there : but there lived in Smythy Door, Manchester, 
a widow whose husband died some pounds in my 
father's debt ; and my uncle calling for the money, 
and telling her whose daughter I was, she said, if he 
pleased, she would board me, and I might go to a 
day school. My uncle inquired into her character, 
and consulted with one Nichols, a yarn merchant, in 
the Deansgate, who advised him to accept the offer ■ 
telling: me that his house, if I did not like the other, 
should be my home ; and here I always met with a 
kind reception. 

My uncle staid with me a few days, and then left 
me with the widow and her daughter, the only child 
she had. I liked my new situation very well ; it was 
much more agreeable to me than Leek. The widow 
and her daughter were Presbyterians ; but my uncle 
ordered me my liberty, and that I should go to 
church ; which she never forbade, though she was very 
strict in her own way of worship, and kept good order 
in the house, with family prayer night and morning. 
From these I never absented myself, and I still 
remember the pleasure I then received from the books 
I read, the repetition of my catechism, and those 
forms of prayer adapted to my years ■ always esteem- 
ing those I believed to be religious. 

I staid at Manchester till the latter end of the 
year, and spent the winter agreeably both to my 
uncle and myself. In the spring he took a journey 
to London, and as my younger sister had been 
brought thence while young, he thought fit to take 
her with him for her improvement ; and there she 



104 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C. 

staid four years. Though I was left at my uncle's 
as by myself, I did not regret the loss of these two 
sisters, who were indeed but as strangers to me, and 
amends were fully made by my uncle bringing down 
my other sister, with whom I had lived under the 
care of our housekeeper. This gave me, as it were, 
new life, for the month that she staid with us ; but 
her departure went very hard with me ; and my 
uncle, who ever sought before I went to meetings, to 
make me happy, according to his notion, proposed 
to take me to Manchester again. This pleased me, 
and the widow received me kindly. She never asked 
me to go to chapel, yet I many times went at plea- 
sure, and have since found occasion to remember 
what I met with there. I staid with her till the 
town was in confusion about tory and whig ; and as 
she was afraid of the consequence, she desired my 
uncle to take me home. 

I was now past thirteen, and quite reconciled to 
my station, growing in my uncle and aunt's favour, 
and in love towards them. They punctually fulfilled 
their promise, that I should want for nothing that 
was fit for me to have ; and though I had learned to 
dance in London, a dancing-master coming to the 
town, my uncle sent me to him, it being a diversion 
which, as I was very agile, it was said I was fit for ; 
and indeed I was very fond of it. 

When I was past fourteen, my brother came down 
to see me ; and my uncle, still studying my improve- 
ment, sent me to learn writing, to make pastry, and 
(on the return of the dancing master) to his school 
again. This gave me an extensive acquaintance ; and 
as I had acquired, from the teachings of my London 
master, a different air, as it is termed, I generally 
went off with applause ; which was not less pleasing 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 105 

to my uncle and aunt, than to myself. He often 
shewed his fondness for me at my return home — taking 
me to his knee — asking if there was any thing wanting 
in my dress, which my acquaintance had, and I had a 
mind to have — saying he would buy it for me ; but 
his love prevented my much asking, for no sooner did 
he see a new mode than he mentioned it ; nor do I 
remember that I ever asked him for any thing which 
he denied me. 

I was now past fifteen, and there coming two sing- 
ing masters, who taught to sing psalms by notes, my 
uncle sent me to them. I went with many more, 
having great delight therein, as also in the worship 
of God, as I had been taught. 

Here I cannot but observe, how many different 
inventions there are, to divert the minds of youth 
from opportunities of seeking after the one thing 
needful ; yet it was in the midst of these hurries that 
I began to make reflections concerning the clergy, 
and to account them worthy of double honour ; 
esteeming them most happy, as their employment 
consisted of devotion to God. I therefore concluded 
they had a peculiar advantage in the mysteries of 
divine things, and a more thorough knowledge of the 
Lord than others ; often saying, if I had been a boy 
I would have been brought up at the University, as 
my brother was designed by my father to have been* 

About this time some persons sought my company, 
by way of courtship ; but I gave them no encourage- 
ment, for I kept myself much reserved on that 
account ; going on in an earnest pursuit of my duties, 
as I had been taught, which proved a comfort to my 
uncle and aunt. 

When about sixteen, my uncle made me an assistant 
in the family, and on the First-days, I not only read 



106 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

and gave out the psalms, but also the family prayers, 
when my uncle was from home, or any way indis- 
posed j so that now I stood high in their favour, with 
respect both to their religious and temporal enjoy- 
ments. Indeed, I have many times since, thought 
my distressed uncle was similar to Micah, who, we 
read, thought himself blest when he had consecrated 
the Levite for his priest ; but, alas ! how soon did the 
priest not only leave Micah, but take away his image : 
so, though I stole not my uncle's god, yet I broke his 
peace, and left him to contemplate the uncertainty of 
the delight which is fixed on transient objects. 

My uncle now intending my advancement, (as he 
said,) left his own small, though convenient house, to 
take a larger, for the better accommodation of me 
and my many acquaintances; little suspecting that 
the removal would overthrow his happiness ; but so 
it was. This house stood opposite the gates of the 
church, (so called,) where I was frequently reminded 
of the mortality of the body, and was thereby struck 
with many serious reflections on the state of eternity, 
and the immortality of the soul. 

As I lived so near, I often waited upon the corpse 
to the grave, musing in myself how it must be with 
, the deceased in the hour of death ; for, though I had 
often heard that sentence pronounced, by the priest, 
in which it is said, " We commit the body to the 
ground, (note) in sure and certain hope of the re- 
surrection to eternal life ;" yet, upon the strictest 
review, I could not find I had any evidence of that 
hope abiding in me. And though my reasonings 
would have led me to conclude it was an immediate 
gift of God to the soul at the time of departure, 
and my esteem for the clergy induced the belief, that 
it was an assurance given to them, and that the 



OF MARGAEET LUCAS. 107 

people must build their hope thereon ; yet my un- 
easiness was not thereby allayed; for that foundation 
was so shaken, that my faith could not stand thereon, 
and I was still uneasy. But although it was such a 
mystery to my natural conceivings, that I could not 
fathom it ; yet I believed this hope was necessary 
for a Christian to find, while in health, the better to 
support his illness, and help him to submit himself 
to the will of God in his death. My soul was at this 
time under a weighty pressure ; and although I was 
then ignorant what it was, I have since believed it 
was no less than the drawings of the Father's love ; 
yet as the natural man discerneth not the things that 
be of God, so he knoweth not where to seek them. 
Thinking I wanted that zeal which I saw in others, 
I was now increasingly fervent in my prayers ; T 
made additions to my private, and waited with atten- 
tion on my public devotions ; and sometimes went on 
with vigour in the repetition of those exercises. 

About the seventeenth year of my age, there came a 
bishop to the town, in order for a confirmation, which 
I thought was a singular good for me ; for from that 
ceremony I conceived that a steadier hope and faith in 
Christ would seize upon my soul ; and I entertained 
thoughts that there was a peculiar power given to 
this high and holy function, from which I was to 
reap that which was divine. I doubt not but the In- 
visible Being looked with compassion on the fervent 
desire of my soul, and viewed with acceptance the 
reverential awe in which my mind, as well as my 
body, was prostrated to receive the earnest of my 
wish ; and I know that my behaviour, both before, 
at, and after that time, was taken notice of by my 
relations and intimates. 

A little while after, my uncle asked what I thought 



108 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

of receiving the sacrament. I told him I did not 
believe it was proper for so young persons to adven- 
ture ; for, as it is said, " those who receive it un- 
worthily, procure to themselves damnation," I durst 
not receive it. He told me of some that were as 
young as myself, and whom he thought as unfit — I 
told him I knew it, but they seemed to exalt them- 
selves amongst their companions on account of that, 
which I durst not, in the greatest humility, partake 
of j neither did I find, that my faith was sufficiently 
ripe to comprehend the mystery betwixt the outward 
bread and wine, and the body and blood of Christ. 

Here I began to flag in my hopes of having received 
any benefit by the laying on of the bishop's hand; and 
what if I say, I staggered, not only at one thing or 
two, but at all that I had done on a religious account. 
Did I now believe there was no God ? Oh no ! but 
to my inexpressible grief, I could not find how to 
worship him, so as to prove my own acceptance, or 
the assurance that I longed for ; nor could my soul 
rest without it. 

I had now laboured in my inventions — spent all my 
hopes ; and as a person quite fatigued, sitting down, 
I was made to bear such a mortification as I had 
never before known — to see that I was dwindling 
away from that, which I thought was most expedient 
for me to be exercised in, and that my performances 
were no more than so many fleeting comforts con- 
tinually wasting in the fruition. 

At last I went on so heavily, that I began to be 
weary of them, and willing to leave the burden I had 
contracted in my own will. I found enough to do to 
go on with them in their course, for I found I had 
gotten them only by tradition. This was a close 
time, wherein I was far from exaltation of any kind ; 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 109 

for it was to me hard drawing on without faith, 
which I now concluded was the immediate gift of 
God. Under this belief I had to cry like the poor 
publican, " Lord have mercy on me ;" and my soul 
was more justified from these breathings, than it had 
ever been in all the wearisome labours I had engaged 
in. But the enemy, who is always near to damp the 
good in us, troubled me with many of his suggestions, 
as that it could never be the way to attain to happi- 
ness, to discharge myself of the worship due to God 
for his favours ; yet the more I gave way to the 
thoughts of throwing myself on the mercy of God, 
the more also I found a hope to spring within my 
soul, that the Lord would point out a way for me. 
This drew me still farther from all ceremonies, and 
gave my mind such a turn from those diversions I 
once took delight in, that my uncle and aunt took 
notice of it, and called it melancholy. But it arose 
from a deep solidity of thought, not knowing in what 
manner or path I should be directed — how I should 
recover a proper sense of my afflictions, or obtain a 
satisfactory assurance. This pensiveness my uncle 
and aunt used their endeavours to prevent, and asked 
my acquaintance to visit me oftener ; but their com- 
pany so frequent, suited not my taste : those nights, 
that were spent in what I had once thought innocent 
amusements, were now made to procure dull morn- 
ings j and my desire of being alone, with the fatigue 
of so much hurry, put me on thoughts of shunning 
the occasions. I therefore desired my uncle to let 
me go out as a waiting-maid ; but they would not 
hear of parting with me. 

When I was past eighteen, we heard that S. Taylor, 
a Friend, was about selling off the goods of her shop, 
and going to live at Stafford; and I desired my uncle 



110 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

to buy them for me, thinking that such an employ- 
ment might abate the perplexities I was in. I 
was then a stranger to her, and my uncle, who 
liked this proposal better than the first, being ever 
ready to please me, sent for her; and in a little 
time after, agreed that I should have the goods, and 
be with her at times for my better information of the 
business and customers. This gave that family and 
me our first acquaintance, though I had not the least 
thought at that time that ever I should change my 
name in respect to religion. Hence, however, many 
imagined my persuasion arose, of which I shall speak 
in the proper place. I went at my own convenience, 
according to our agreement, still keeping my exercise 
to myself ; nor did I remark any thing particular in 
my new acquaintance, their exercises lying hidden 
as well as my own. 

When the time came that I was to enter the shop, 
my uncle had so good an opinion of the Quakers, 
that he left the appraising of the goods entirely to 
S. Taylor. I continued to board with my uncle, 
and made it a constant rule to go directly home at 
night when I had shut the shop, and thus shunned 
my former associates. The day I spent in business, 
and part of the night in much thought ; the desire 
of my soul increasing after that revival of hope, 
which, as my little faith in what is called the service 
of God, still diminished, I found at times drawing 
me nearer to a reliance on him, and a patient waiting 
for what might follow. 

I was about nineteen, when we received an account 
of the death of my sister Lydia, for whom our family 
went into mourning : and I not only mourned in 
clothes, but in heart ; for I loved her more dearly 
than any sister I had, and may truly say, her death 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. Ill 

added to the weight of my exercise, as well as to my 
belief, that it was requisite for me to know my own 
election to be sure. And oh ! the distress that I now 
was in, when I looked upon myself and others, to see 
them posting on with cheerfulness in the respective 
duties of their religion, and myself not only barren 
in my desires of it, but so oppressed in the perform- 
ance, that I could neither assist my uncle, nor myself 
that way. They who have known the activity of 
nature, can best judge of my state, when my uncle, 
who used to shew me so much indulgence, signified 
his happiness in my good behaviour by saying, he 
could scarcely go into company, but they were speak- 
ing in my commendation. It was, indeed, a thing 
very pleasing to my kind uncle, who told me a little 
after, he would have me be prudent ; "for," said he, 
" there are those eyes upon you that you are not aware 
of :" and I believe he was then, in his own thoughts, 
near having his ambition concerning me gratified, 
which was, to see me happily settled in the world. 
I conclude, that at this time, the parents of my asso- 
ciates had generally a respect for me ; for, although 
I was of a brisk and lively disposition, yet was I, 
through the goodness of God, preserved from that 
which was immodest or profane, and kept within the 
bounds of what is termed innocent behaviour and 
good breeding. This engaged many, that had daugh- 
ters, to encourage my company. But how soon did 
I see a turn ! for that which ought to have raised me 
higher in their esteem, now seemed to prove my over- 
throw therein. So true it is, that the greater like, 
once turned, proves the greater dislike. But to go 
on — I could no longer remain under the cloud of 
insensibility ; for the Day-Spring from on high had 
visited me, and the veil was so far rent, that I saw 



s 



112 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

the work of God was in the secret of my heart, and 
that a spiritual worship must have place there. 

I now remembered that I had heard the Quakers 
recommend people to mind that of God in themselves, 
and to follow the teachings of the Spirit. This I 
thought looked somewhat suitable to my condition ; 
and my mind seemed pressed to look at their doctrine 
again. In order to this, as I was not willing to 
be taken notice of, I went out between the times of 
service, as though I would walk. This was an exer- 
cise that was allowed by the most strict, to take off 
any drowsiness that might hang on the mind, and 
unfit it for the support of the evening devotions. 
Though this was not what I had a real necessity for, 
being one of good spirits, and before I knew the want 
of faith in my way of worship, being in my devotions 
zealous, in my diversions lively, and in my work 
industrious ; yet I took this freedom, because the 
meeting lay in my way, where I had a mind to inform 
myself, and as I passed by the gate, would make a 
stop. If 1 heard no voice, I soon went off; but if 
any one was speaking, I usually stepped within the 
door, the little end being, as I thought, a good shelter 
from the eyes of those who sat in the body of the 
meeting. I made these visits as often as I could ; 
and surely I have to say, the Lord was very con- 
descending, and gave me a more clear understanding 
than ever I had found within myself at the other 
meetings, and which, from our house being so near, I 
had opportunities of. My intentions were good in 
respect to these freedoms, and I used to stay as long 
as I durst, then take a turn down the next field, and 
so to my worship again ; whereby I proved the effect 
which the different doctrines had on me, the former 
answering to the hope of that justification I have 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 113 

before spoken of, and the latter fruitless and dull. 
Yet so far did I proceed in repeating these trials, that 
I plainly saw it was with me like those who are hard 
to believe the things they would not have to be true ; 
but so closely did the truth and mercy of God follow 
me, that I found judgment in myself from the 
Almighty, for persisting in that which gave me not 
the least satisfaction. Willingly would I have re- 
tained this old profession, that I had been brought 
up in from my childhood, and that was as dear to 
my natural desires as Ishmael was to Abraham : but 
I saw it must not remain, and therefore I made a 
stop, and refused to go to church, so called. 

I had signified something of my uneasiness to my 
sister, who was coming down from London again, and 
she had told my aunt that I favoured the Quakers, 
and did not intend to go to church. This greatly 
incensed her, and she left me, saying, she would fetch 
out the parson and people to carry me in. But so 
far had truth wrought with me, that I found I must 
not only venture that, but also struggle against the 
oppositions which I felt in myself. 

The following night was spent in more confusion 
than common ; and the next day my uncle and aunt 
went to the parson's, and some time after sent for me. 
He looked on me with surprise, signifying his great 
mistake in one whom he had thought so religious, 
and so good an example to others ; for I was a con- 
stant attender upon those called Saint's days, as well 
as other times set apart for worship. He asked me 
how long I had been uneasy — I told him a great 
while, and could not find any real satisfaction in any 
thing that I could do — He signified that a perseve- 
rance in those duties I had been instructed in, was 
the only way, and would, no doubt, bring that satisfac- 

i 



114 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

tion I spoke of. " But/' said he, "your uncle is afraid 
you are going to be a Quaker" — I answered, "I believe 
not, though I have met with that satisfaction from 
their preaching, which I never met with elsewhere" — 
He said, it was no more than a delusion of the grand 
enemy of our souls • and then set forth how danger- 
ous it was for young persons either to go to hear 
them, or to read their books ; saying theirs were 
seducing, erroneous principles, and he would have 
me promise, never to hear them any more. 

Many heavy things he said of them, and asked me 
particularly about the family of the Taylors ; these 
I could justly clear, and said, that neither they nor 
any other person had ever endeavoured to insinuate 
their principles, or turn me from one profession to 
another. He then said, if I would desist from hear- 
ing them, and reading their books, I might do well, 
and through the continuance of my duties, and good 
company, might overcome my uneasiness. Indeed, 
he said so much against the persuasion of the Quakers, 
that my respect for the clergy, together with my in- 
difference to the formalities, as I then termed the 
customs of the said people, seemed to determine me 
never to go to hear them again. I said, (and that 
very truly,) I would never be a Quaker, if I could 
help it : nor was I one till the desire of my soul for 
peace could be no other way satisfied ; and no one 
could wrestle more to escape it than I did, as the 
following account will shew. 

Such now were my childish conceivings, that though 
I had witnessed the work of God to be among them, 
yet I thought, could I but come to a possession of 
that which they preached, and which I found a 
savour of in my heart, it would not matter whether 
I attended any form of worship or not. 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 115 

My uncle said, the parson, whose name was Leay, 
would board nie, which he and my aunt thought very 
well of. I understood his meaning, and thanked 
him, but said, " that would only give the town reason 
to believe there had been a difference amongst us, and 
if they would be easy, I would see what I could do 
in going to church again." But I well remember, 
what a heavy trial it was ; and I went with so much 
indifference, that it gave my uncle and aunt great 
uneasiness, and myself no less. 

Not long after, parson Bennet sent for me to the 
widow Brueton's ; he also expressed himself sur- 
prised at his being so mistaken in me, saying, had it 
happened with many others, he should not have 
wondered half so much. We being more equal and 
intimate, I could be more free with him ; he asked 
me if I was for being a Quaker — I said, " I do not 
know, yet I believe not," — " Why," said he, " they 
deny the Scriptures !" — I said, " If they do, I promise 
you I will never own them, but I know they do not/' 
— " Why then," said he, " they wrest them to their 
own destruction, and they deny baptism." — I said, 
" They do of water, but they preach a baptism/' — 
" Yes," said he, " and a strange one too ; put your 
finger into that fire, (one being in the room,) and see 
how you can bear that baptism." — This filled my 
mind with indignation, and I said, " No, I scorn it ; 
for I believe they no more mean elementary fire, than 
the baptism of elementary water." I may conclude 
that at this time neither he nor I knew that myste- 
rious baptism, which my soul has at times since 
experienced. He went fluently on respecting the 
principles of the Quakers, setting some of them forth 
as quite ridiculous, and told me, if I could not believe 
him, he would lend me some of their own writings. 

i 2 



116 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

I thanked him, saying, I was not in a disposition to 
read the sentiments of anyone profession ; — and indeed 
I was not, for even the Scriptures themselves, in 
which I had been so conversant and taken delight, 
seemed to me, just then, of little moment ; and so 
great was my separation from all duties, that I found 
nothing left to trust in, but God alone. But to re- 
turn, — I said, " I could not judge them by their writ- 
ings, but was assured they were so far in the right that, 
as God was a spirit, he must be worshipped in spirit 
and in truth." He said but little after, only " If 
you have got a notion of the Spirit, you are past 
hopes." 

The uneasiness of our family was now no longer a 
secret : my intimates, one after another, would accost 
me by the name of " flat-cap," and " Friend," or derid- 
ingly ask, " Does the Spirit move thee ?" with which, 
and such other mockeries, my natural inclination was 
much buffeted. The storm began to be more bois- 
terous, both within and without ; my acquaintance 
abroad and my relations at home : but above these, 
the enemies of my own house, who were always ready, 
at each difficulty I met with, to turn the balance 
.against my small hope ; and by insinuating the neces- 
sity of my being cautious, and deliberate in my pro- 
ceedings, had run me such a length in trying to go 
on in the way that I was trained in, that the righteous 
judgments of the Almighty seized my soul again, and 
in so weighty a manner, as made that heart, which 
used to spring with joy at the chiming of the bells, 
now to fear. That soul, which used to approach the 
consecrated house with reverence, now trembled at 
the entrance ; and those steps, that used to advance 
towards the pew with pleasure, lost their former 
activity; and nothing but horror and darkness ensued, 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 117 

in the room of the once delightful offerings of prayer 
and praises unto God. 

Oh ! surely I have enough to remind myself of 
here, without particularizing the afflictions, which the 
anxious desire of my kind uncle and aunt for my 
eternal welfare, produced. Such I believed it was, 
and therefore I endeavoured to bear them with sub- 
mission and resignation, as proceeding from a prin- 
ciple of love. Indeed, I did all in my power to allay 
their trouble : the loss of their rest and appetite, and 
the disquiet of their minds, being a cause of real 
grief to me ; under which, the little comfort that I 
could find within myself was, that I was not accessary 
to it, any farther than by studying to find the answer 
of a good conscience towards Grod, and an assurance of 
that which might go with me beyond the grave : but 
this I could not find, in the present distressed situation 
of my mind. Notwithstanding, I secretly longed to 
hear the Quakers once more ; and as my uncle kept a 
strict eye over me, that I might have no opportunity 
of gratifying my desire, I must account it a peculiar 
favour, that about this time, there came a young woman 
from Newcastle to visit us. She was a stranger to 
our uneasiness, and my mind being still pressed to 
hear as above, I took her out, as though for a walk, 
and when we were near the meeting, asked her if she 
had a mind to hear the Quakers — she answered me, 
" Yes ; for," said she, " there is no meeting of that 
people at our town." I am sure, had she known the 
least of our family's uneasiness, she might have read 
my confusion in my looks when I asked her the ques- 
tion, and much more when I entered the door, and 
heard set forth the disadvantage those lay under, who 
halted between two opinions. The minister proved, 
from the apostle's expressions, " that a double-minded 



118 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

in an is unstable in all his ways f and proceeding in 
that doctrine, it renewed my hope and faith, that the 
Lord would still be gracious to me. I had before 
known the witness of God that is placed in the heart, 
spoken to by several Friends; yet this unexpected 
testimony was so adapted to my present circumstance, 
and so answerable to the ardent desire of my mind, 
of being directed to that path which would lead me 
to the favour of God, that by this, and our non- 
acquaintance, all prejudice was removed, and a clench 
given to the nail of my new profession. For though 
I did not immediately join the society, yet as I could 
not but assemble with some community, I found it 
must be with those whose doctrine now reached my 
soul ; with a resolution and good intention, not to 
persist any longer in a way that I had no faith in ; 
but to submit myself to the will of the Almighty, and 
to follow that which weaned me from a dependence 
on formal worship. 

We returned home ; she satisfied with having in- 
dulged her curiosity, and I no less with the hand of 
Providence in this thing ; both filled with admira- 
tion, she at the whimsies of the Quakers, and I at 
their doctrine ; well resembling the two women at 
the mill, the one taken with the truth and the other 
left. / could have concealed where we had been, but 
she could not. My uncle was informed of it, yet did 
not take any notice while she staid ; but when she 
was gone, he engaged himself in liquor, as I have 
reason to believe he did one night before, in order to 
give a fuller vent to his passion ; otherwise he would 
hardly have carried it so far above his reason, as to 
use me as he did ; for according to his own words, 
he had watched occasion to chastise me as a child, 
yet could find no fault with me, which could give 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 119 

him sufficient excuse for so doing • but now he 
thought nothing was so cruel as to suffer me to run 
on to my ruin, both of body and soul. 

About this time I had put by a young man, who, 
my uncle thought, was likely to make me happy : he 
had proposed to settle on me a sufficient jointure, and 
my uncle had offered, out of his own generosity, to 
advance a hundred pounds in addition to what I had 
of my own. But here how different were our views — 
my uncle thought of the advancement of my body, 
and I was no less anxious for the welfare of my soul ; 
for I could think of no delight but the immediate 
favour of God ; and this I felt I must prepare to 
suffer for, as I apprehended it stood opposed to their 
proposals. 

My uncle, as I have observed, having drunk much, 
was violent in his behaviour ; though I could well 
cover all, as to his intentions, one rash expression ex- 
cepted, which escaped him in the conclusion of that 
night's disorder ; and which 1 mention, to shew the 
reason of my departure from them, and to give an 
idea how it fared with me. He said, " if ever I went 
to the meeting again, he would bereave me of my life." 
I stood trembling, yet received the threat in a tender 
state of mind, and I could perceive he suffered for 
it the next moment. My life was not much in my 
notice, neither could 1 believe my uncle would execute 
his vow : but Oh ! the idea of a separation over- 
whelmed my mind with sorrow ; for I found, at that 
moment, that I durst not flinch from the truth with 
which my mind had been impressed, nor could I 
think of leaving my nearest relations thus. 

Many thoughts revolved within me, and many 
tears flowed, under the consideration of my unhappy 
circumstance, as I then termed it. The enemy of my 



120 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

soul here manifested his malice, by suggesting, how 
unlikely I was to obtain any conquest oyer either 
myself or my relations ; and that my rash proceed- 
ings might bring on a massacre. But my soul has 
to commemorate the condescension of Divine Good- 
ness, which, in this very low state, inspired me with 
some, encouragement ; and a desire prevailed, though 
I sought it not, to re-establish my little faith, by 
again hearing the most penetrating word ; and I con- 
cluded it would be best, to moderate my uncle and 
aunt's passion, by returning directly back from meet- 
ing to my own apartment, which was furnished with 
a bed and some few necessaries, bought at my 
entrance upon the shop : I had hopes they would 
look on my so doing with a favourable eye, and when 
their hurry was a little over, send for me home. 

They did not miss me till I came from that meet- 
ing, and they thought fit to let me stay where I was 
till the next. They then sent a person to see if I was 
there : but I did not find an engagement in myse]f to 
go, either at that time, or for some weeks after ; nor 
was I so much taken with this new fangle, as my 
uncle called it, as to force my inclination in the least 
degree ; for, could I have indulged myself in the per- 
suasion, that one might serve God acceptably, with- 
out going to any public worship, I could, with ease, 
have remained separate from all. This deliberation, 
however, gave encouragement as well as opportunity, 
for my old acquaintance to visit me by turns — the 
younger sort to shew their wit, by railing at what 
they called the principles of the Quakers — and the 
more grave, to set forth, according to their notion, 
the diabolical tenets of that people. As one struck 
dumb, I had but little to say in reply; only at 
times, I signified that their doctrine bespoke better 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 121 

things ; but as I had not yet obtained knowledge, by 
a perusal of their writings, I durst not attempt, nor 
did I desire, to be busy in making any defence for 
them. My mind, indeed, had not hitherto inclined 
to consult either men or books, lest thereby I should 
be seduced to believe what was not of God ; for 
I plainly saw, that nothing short of what was so, 
would satisfy my soul. I may say, in thankfulness 
to that Eternal Power which still preserved me, the 
arguments used did not abate my travail of soul 
after the Divine favour : and, though I hope I never 
was one wise in my own conceit, yet so far did the 
truth of God in the secret of my soul exalt itself, that 
I proved its influences to be more wise than all my 
teachers ; who, at best, were but as the hammer to the 
nail, in fastening in my soul the impressions which 1 
had received. 

In this situation my uncle also visited me, and the 
sternness of his countenance was altered. He kindly 
signified to me, how hard our separation was to them, 
and that if I would but bind myself by a promise, 
that I would never be a Quaker, he would give me a 
deed of gift, that at his and my aunt's decease I 
should have all they were worth. I answered him, 
that if I could make such a promise, I wanted no 
farther encouragement than the continuance of their 
love ; but Oh ! I could not do it. We both sat and 
w r ept our passion out. My uncle mentioned my leav- 
ing them so abruptly ; but* instead of inviting me 
home, he signified he could now take no pleasure in 
seeing me, without an alteration. 

In a little time I found the balm of Eternal Good- 
ness, which healed the wound that my mind had 
been made to endure on truth's account. 

There now came a young man to visit me that had 



122 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

been a student, and had received orders with a bene- 
fice — not one of the most thoughtful, as will appear. 
After he had used the compliment of, Madam, how 
do you do ? and I had thanked him, he said, " Why 
I hear you are turning a Quaker." — I answered, "We 
sometimes hear that which is not altogether true ; 
but I suppose what you have to say" — " Why then," 
said he, " there must be a great change in you ; and 
a deal of sobbing and sighing, and thouing and thee- 
ing" — " And pray," said I, " what have you against 
that language ?" — " Why," said he, " it is not within 
the line of morality, or common civility ; but what 
is used betwixt men and their beasts, and more fit 
to be used to brutes than men." — I replied, "I am 
very sorry you should think I have already forgotten 
myself ; but I remember, and know, it is that lan- 
guage which we, in all our prayers, and in the Litany, 
put up our petitions in ; therefore, take heed what you 
say, for, by your saying it is fit to be used only to 
brutes and beasts, of what do you make your God?" — 
"0," says he, " I perceive you side with the Quakers." 
— " Yes, so far," said I, as to believe that language 
good enough for man, which is used in honouring 
God." 

• He went off; nor was it long before my uncle paid 
me a second visit. As I now seemed to him at a stand, 
dubious with whom to join, he laid before me the 
profession of the Presbyterians, saying, he would 
freely give me leave to join with them. But from the 
acquaintance I had with that people, whilst twice at 
Manchester, I knew they dwelt much upon the same 
things I was in the practice of before ; therefore I 
was not likely to find with them the satisfaction I 
was in pursuit of. My uncle further proposed, to 
take the shop and bear the loss he might sustain in 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 123 

selling off the goods, if I would choose a place agreeable 
to board at, in any other town ; for he thought the 
removing me out of the way of shame and disgrace, 
(as he called it,) might be a means of altering my 
resolution. But the idea I had conceived of spiritual 
worship, was so fixed in my mind, that it seemed to 
me, that I must have carried it with me, had I been 
removed to the uttermost corner of the earth. I sig- 
nified this to him ; and he, much wondering at my 
foolishness, left me saying, I was certainly bewitched. 
Indeed, I myself could not, at times, but wonder what 
it was that bore up my soul against the many hard 
things I met with from others, and the secret temp- 
tations that were daily presented to my own mind ; 
which so filled it, that, in the little sleep I got, I 
frequently dreamed of something relative to my 
exercises. 

In one of my dreams, a man appeared, coming up 
to my door with a sieve in his hand, and a bag. He 
sat down, and opening the bag, put out some wheat 
into the sieve. I asked him what he was going to do ; 
he said, "to separate the chaff from the wheat." Here 
the enemy shot his empoisoned dart against that fear 
which lodged in me, and, through his insinuations, 
made me believe myself the chaff, blown from my 
former quietness, by aspiring ?*fter the knowledge of 
things too high for me. Oh ! the consternation that 
my soul was in, from these assaults of the enemy, who 
now brought up the miscarriages of my life, and my 
foolish actions, as so many witnesses against me j 
whilst I endeavoured to withstand him by repentance, 
and purposes of amendment ; pleading with myself 
the just ground of my present proceeding. But as I 
had not the evidence of hope at my own command, 
I was obliged to suffer, till I was again revived by 



124 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

the mercies of a God, who would not break the 
bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax. 

In this interval, my uncle came again with parson 
Leay, and still w r ith hopes, from my staying at home, 
that they might gain me ; but they found their mis- 
take : for, though I said but little, I was as resolute 
to prove the truth as ever. We sat down, and the 
parson offered to take in writing, any scruples I had 
to make; promising either to answer them himself, or 
to get them answered by the bishop. I acknowledged 
his kindness, saying, I did not see how any one 
could be serviceable to me, for it was faith I wanted 
in the whole. He signified, it was not for the un- 
learned to pry into the matter of faith, but to believe 
according to the canons of the church ; and went on 
largely in commendation of the wisdom and great 
care there had been amongst the learned fathers, that 
there might be no default or error in the articles of 
our faith ; thence inferring, that it was requisite 
we should believe them. I signified that I could 
not place my trust in man, but had received a better 
faith already; and that I believe I ought to seek 
God for myself. He said, " You are obstinate, and 
if you do not take care, you w T ill renounce your 
vow of baptism." — I answered, " I do not find that 
troubles me ; for I hold it as a matter of indif- 
ference, which will do me neither good nor hurt." 
— He said, " You are hardened ; and if you persist, 
you will be damned." This struck us silent ; and as 
soon as I could take my looks off him, I cast them 
on my dear uncle, whose eyes plainly bespoke his 
grief. The parson got up, and said, " You have 
need of the prayers of the congregation." — I said, 
" I know I have need of the prayers of all good 
people, and desire to have them." As they passed 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 125 

the shop, I heard him say something of my being 
quite lost, and my uncle shook his head, and left me 
in great sorrow. 

This was a heavy trial to me, for the enemy aimed 
his dart again to give a fatal blow, by insinuating 
into my mind the doctrine of election and reproba- 
tion j which strengthened those doubtings the late 
conversation had raised. What had I here to do ? 
no person in the world to nee to, with whom I could 
entrust my soul ! no book to try my cause by ! the 
Bible itself being still to me as if written in an un- 
known tongue ! no God or Saviour at hand, nor even 
any comfortable desire that I was sensible of ! Read, 
in these expressions, the deep afflictions of my soul, 
thus lying under the tramplings of a most desperate 
fiend ! Could I have found just reason for his up- 
braiding me with lightness, it would at this time 
have certainly appeared ; or could I have believed 
that God was unjust, and would inflict eternal punish- 
ment on the innocent, or on a repentant sinner that 
was willing to turn from every evil way — I say, could 
I have reconciled this to his attributes of mercy and 
goodness, I must assuredly have fallen by these sug- 
gestions of the cruel deceiver, who now appeared to 
me in the most surprising manner ; producing that 
exercise, which, to this present time, gives me asto- 
nishment. For, one night, as I lay in bed, on a 
sudden, a voice, as I thought, audible and like my 
own, cursed the Lord, and defied Heaven ; saying, 
" Now am I damned, for I have sinned against the 
Holy Ghost, and shall never be forgiven." When 
the words were passed, I felt bewildered, and imme- 
diately flung myself upon my face, crying out, " 
Lord ! forgive me ; but it is not I, yet, Lord ! 



126 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

forgive me." Thus, in confusion I went on, some- 
times begging for forgiveness, and then denying the 
fact : and when I did so far recover, as to know how 
I was, I felt, from the agony, in a complete per- 
spiration j the bed whereon I lay, for some time 
after, shook with my strong trembling ; and it was 
a considerable time ere I could compose myself. 
Yet when I could, I found that my great God did 
not accuse me ; but encouraged the sincerity of my 
desire to look up to him, as God, who mercifully 
saveth those that trust in his providence ; and is 
willing to remit the past transgressions of the truly 
penitent. And here I proved my hope renewed, and 
my faith established ; yet, even here I stumbled at 
the honour I had been taught to give to those divine 
oracles, as I esteemed the clergy \ and thought I 
must surely be mistaken, in supposing there was no 
more in them than in other men \ nor yet could I 
lower my high esteem of their learning, and set the 
illiterate, (as I had been taught to call them,) on an 
equal footing of wisdom, with those having the high 
title of reverend. Yet here did my God help me ; 
for one evening as I sat, low in mind, musing alone, 
the everlasting Truth seized upon me, in an exposi- 
tion of that remarkable thanksgiving of our Saviour, 
" I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, 
that thou hast hid these things from the wise and 
prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes." This 
immediate favour, from the loving kindness of the 
Lord, had a great influence over me ; I arose from 
my chair, and fell upon my knees to receive the over- 
shado wings of his power ; and such was the effect, 
that by its assistance, I ejaculated from my soul, a 
few words in supplication to the Lord, begging a 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 127 

farther manifestation of his will, and his preservation 
therein. This, I apprehend, was the most lively 
prayer I had ever then made. 

When I had waited for a time on my knees, I 
remembered that I had read the passage, yet desired 
to look at it again. I had no Bible of my own, my 
aunt having taken mine from me, telling me I should 
have no use for it, as indeed I had not much till 
this time ; yet, being provided with one, I looked 
for the text, and casting my eye upon it, found a 
great alteration in myself, and cause to say, "surely 
the Lamb of God is found worthy to take the book, 
and to open the seals thereof." From this time I 
knew it was not in my power to read the Scriptures 
in their right signification, but only as I had the key 
of interpretation lent me, which I now often received, 
to my great profit and consolation. Thus I became 
again familiar with my book, and prized that good 
companion more justly than 1 had ever done before ; 
desiring to be kept in the way I was to go ; to 
have bread to eat, and raiment to put on, and to be 
enabled to return to my Fathers house in peace; 
concluding that the Lord should be my God. 

Whilst I resigned myself to his holy will, it pleased 
the Almighty to shew me, that it was not right that 
I should thus believe, and yet live alone, without 
assembling myself with those that I was satisfied 
were believers in the same Divine Principle : neither 
do I now think it would have been good or right ; 
for, as sure as the Lord thought proper, in his wisdom, 
to provide helpmates for the body, so surely does he 
condescend to qualify many of his faithful servants, 
to be helpful, in a spiritual sense, to each other. I 
therefore believed it was right for me to attend 
meetings, in order to retain my favour with him. 



128 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

In this my aunt did not interrupt me till I had 
been a few times ; notwithstanding which, I had 
enough to do within myself ; the tears I shed at my 
entrance at the door, and on presenting myself before 
the Invisible Being, were so many renunciations of 
my own will. I used to sit down on the first seat 
I came to ; yet so well did it answer, that what I 
sowed in tears at my getting there, I reaped with 
joy at my coming away. 

Going with a soul desirous of improvement, I 
was often highly favoured, and had to remember S. 
Radford's recommendation to me, to "buy the truth 
and sell it not/' as also to be assured of the justice of 
the Almighty, and that man's destruction is of him- 
self. I think it was about, or a little after this time, 
that I heard my present uncle, Joshua Toft,* give 

* Joshua Toft joined the Society of Friends by convincement 
in the early part of his life, and through obedience to the teaching 
of Divine grace, became whilst young, a good example of religion 
and virtue. His concerns in business at that time, occasioned him 
to be much from home and in company with such as were un- 
acquainted with that circumspect demeanour which his religious 
profession required ; from some of whom, in consequence of his 
consistent conduct, he met with ill-treatment. But his mind was 
so clothed with patience, meekness, and love, that he was enabled 
to silence the ignorance of foolish men ; and sometimes their 
enmity against him for his faithfulness, gave plaee to respect and 
friendship. He began business in a small way ; but the blessing 
of Divine Providence crowned his honest endeavours, and whilst 
yet in the full vigour of life, he acquired a moderate competency. 
Thus circumstanced, and with a flow of business which would 
have enabled him to accumulate much wealth, with noble fortitude 
he declined trade, in order to devote himself more fully to the 
service of his great Lord and Master. He came forth as a minister 
when about thirty-two years of age, anji laboured faithfully in that 
character for many years in various parts of England and Ireland. 
For about twenty years before his decease he was much disabled 
from travelling, by a disorder in his head, which at times affected 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 129 

his testimony to the truth ; and I remember it was 
as one having authority, pressing Friends to come out 
of Babylon, and exhorting them not to partake with 
her of her sins, lest they should also be partakers of 
her plagues ; and though I was very young in the 
truth, yet the Lord was pleased so to enlighten my 
understanding, that I read him spiritually, and was 
made a partaker of that life from which the power 
came. Nor do I forget the encouragement which I 
received from another Friend, when, like a shower of 
the former and latter rain, he watered the plantation 
of the Lord, by setting forth the blessedness with 
which he will reward those who forsake all for his 
name's sake, &c. But, though I could take delight, 
yet I was not to build a tabernacle here ; my troubles 
were not quite over ; for, though my aunt let me go 
free a few times, yet she proposed to perplex me in 
my new design, by aggravating the passions she found 
in herself, and by giving way to the foolish excitations 
of others. 

The first time she met me in my going to meeting, 
was with a whip, and the next with a black hood and 

his understanding, and which deprived him of sight for more than 
fourteen of the last years of his life. After this privation, his 
mental faculties resumed their former strength, and continued clear 
till his decease. 

He bore great bodily suffering as well as the loss of sight, with 
exemplary patience, resignation, and cheerfulness, expressing his 
belief that all his affliction was laid upon him in love, and his hope 
that he should receive it as so dispensed. 

A short time before his departure he was much comforted by a 
secret intimation in these words, " I have been with thee, I am 
with thee, and will be with thee." 

He quietly departed this life the 15th of the Eighth Month, 
1769, aged upwards of eighty years, and was interred in Friends' 
burial ground at Leek. — (From the Testimony of Staffordshire 
Quarterly Meeting.) 

K 



130 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

green apron. But I shall endeavour here to be as 
brief as I can ; for I do not desire to remember the 
foolish pains she took to mortify me : yet I feel 
engaged, gratefully to acknowledge, that I was pre- 
served above all the ridicule I met with ; though, to 
many I was a subject of entertainment and diversion. 
Some, however, seemed to have compassion for me ; 
though I cannot say that of such, I knew at that 
time above three or four. Among these was one that 
frequently expressed a concern for my preservation, 
and offered to assist me in having my aunt bound 
over to her good behaviour ; but I felt more desirous 
to be preserved in a proper decorum towards her. 

Others of my well-wishers advised me to leave the 
town ; proffering me a room in their house, and 
liberty to sell my goods with them. This, I must 
ever acknowledge, was a kind part ; but, though they 
pressed my compliance, I could not find an inclination 
thereto ; for I conceived, that to quit the town would 
look as though I had done some bad thing ; and I 
knew no one could, justly, say any worse thing of me, 
than that I was a Quaker. Therefore, though I could 
willingly have been out of the noise that my change 
had occasioned, yet I rather chose to commit myself 
to that Hand, which I now believed could preserve me, 
and submit to the confusion of this time, till my God 
should say, it is enough ; not doubting that these 
things were permitted for the trial of my faith. Yet, 
so far did their kindness prevail, that I inclined to 
ask farther advice upon it ; and, as S. Leay had been 
a few times to ask me how I did, I told him my 
desire, and requested him to procure me an oppor- 
tunity of speaking with one of the Friends Toft. 
He asked me, which? I said, either of the three 
brothers, that I could most conveniently go to, with- 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 131 

out my uncle or aunt's knowing it ; for I was much 
more troubled at their abuse of others, than of myself. 
He told me the next day, that he had spoken to 
Samuel Toft, who was willing to give me the hearing 
that night. 

Accordingly I went in the dusk of the evening, 
Nicodemus like ; not so much for the shame of the 
thing, (which I was now used to,) as for fear that my 
aunt should get knowledge of it. I did not know, by 
the name of Samuel, which was to receive me ; but, 
knocking at the door, he let me in. Having paid my 
compliments, I sat down ; and introduced our dis- 
course, by saying, I supposed he was no stranger to 
the hurry of the town, and the angry mood of my 
uncle and aunt concerning me. I signified that I could 
not help it, but that, notwithstanding this, I found 
myself engaged to join the society : I farther told 
him of the kind proffer made me, but doubting in 
my mind what would be for the best, I had a desire 
to ask advice. He told me, that to go was the most 
likely way to rid myself of those troubles ; but asked 
if I had no hopes of my relations being better hu- 
moured. I told him, no ; but was rather afraid they 
w r ould be worse, for they said they could never rest 
while I was a Quaker. He then said, " It is a nice 
point to give advice in, for who can tell what thy 
relations may do in their anger, or how thou thyself 
canst bear it; perhaps the surest way to be quiet 
from them is, to accept the proposals of thy friends." 
This, however, was not what I expected, nor 
indeed, what I desired ; and, to bring him more over 
to my views, I said, " Do you think, Sir, there is 
room to believe I should be presumptuous, if I should 
stay, and receive an injury from them?" He said, 
he thought not, so long as I gave them no just 

K 2 



132 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

occasion ; and added, " Young woman, what dost 
thou think is best thyself %" — I answered, " I would 
not, willingly, run myself into danger, neither act 
any way purposely to provoke them ; nor yet do I 
see how I can, at this time, fly from their anger, 
and leave the town, without giving myself secret un- 
easiness." — To this he replied, " To be sure, we ought 
to mind that; for we might go out of one trouble 
into another, and perhaps a worse." He further 
asked me, how 1 thought I could bear the trial ; 
saying, I had already known something of an exer- 
cise of this kind. — I said, " Yes, I have ; and, the 
truth I have found so much on my side, that I have 
been hitherto supported through it, and now do not 
doubt/ but if I should lose my life, in the way of 
my relations' anger, my soul would still be happy."— *i 
He signified, if such was my belief and resolution, 
he could say nothing better to me than, Go on and 
prosper. 

Wishing him the compliment of the night, I re- 
turned, desiring to remain stedfast to what I appre- 
hended was my duty ; but when at home, I could 
not forbear reflecting on the small assurance I had 
given this Friend ; and especially on the odd appear- 
ance, for a Quaker, which I had made ; for, besides 
my speech, I went in full trim. I had on my hoop, 
rings on my fingers, and ear-rings in my ears ; my 
clothes, indeed, were black and white crape mourn- 
ing, which I wore for my beloved sister, and therefore 
my linen was without lace ; neither was I thoughtful, 
at this time, about my outward dress, my work lay 
more within. Nor did my friend regard my appear- 
ance so much, as to overlook the intentions of my 
heart ; for Samuel Leay told me the next time he 
saw me, that S. Toft said, he was satisfied there was 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 133 

that within me, that would prevail on me to lay my 
compliments aside ; and it was not long ere I found it 
my place to do so. I must now mention a probable 
reason, why I was not allowed to give my friend 
a fuller assurance ; and which may also shew, how 
blind I was to my own state, and how much need 
I had to crave Divine light to steer my course by ; 
for, though I seemed to myself to be quite fixed in 
my purpose, yet I soon found, by experience, how 
weak I was. 

I received a letter from my dear brother, (who had 
kindly paid us a visit on the death of my sister,) say- 
ing that he had heard from my uncle, the melan- 
choly affair that was amongst us ; describing the 
fanatical and fantastical deportment of those I was 
about to join with ; the utter mistake they lay under, 
in respect to the doctrines of Christ, and giving me a 
kind invitation to come to him, with a promise to 
take care of me and my fortune. He affectionately 
mentioned an opportunity he had of placing me with 
a near relation of his wife's, who was a milliner in 
the city, if I liked that business ; and concluded in 
much brotherly love, and with desires for my welfare 
every way. 

This so sensibly touched the natural affection I had 
for him, that, had I not been favoured from the Most 
High, with a sight of the snare which my enemy had 
laid for me, I should certainly have accepted this 
offer from my only brother; the consideration of whose 
love, in this instance, and of the grief I had given my 
other near and dear relations, caused me to turn my 
exercises round and round again ; and to consider the 
cause of them. In this affecting survey, many were 
my secret supplications to the Lord, for his preserva- 
tion and assistance, that thereby the enemy might be 



134 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

defeated in all his stratagems. Thus was I attacked 
on my weakest side ; for this tender treatment from 
my brother, and my uncle's three last visits, gave me 
more affectionate concern than all their abuses. But 
now I was to answer the letter, and 1 did it so 
thoroughly, according to that wisdom, which my 
Heavenly Father was pleased to favour me with, that 
I never heard any more from my brother on that 
subject ; but whenever afterwards he wrote to me, it 
was in great love and respect. 

Through the condescensions of the inexpressible 
love of my God, I had surmounted many difficulties 
and doubtings in my own mind ; yet had I divers 
trials still to wade through, as now will appear. 

The alteration of my speech was in this manner : — 
one morning, as I lay in bed, a weighty exercise 
came closely over my mind ; and as I waited to 
know the cause, it came before my view, that I must 
use the plain language. I had, before, had this at 
times under my notice, and now had hardly time to 
reconsider the thing and prove it was the truth, ere 
my aunt knocked. I knew her step, which made me 
tremble, and therefore I made no great haste to 
dress ; but as I knew I must submit, I went towards 
the door, saying, Who is there ? "What dost thou 
want 1 She said, Let me in and I will tell thee. I 
did not in the least question that ; and she quickly 
let me know it, by many threatenings of what she 
would do, if ever I thou'd her again. I could not 
but think it was a very hard allotment to me, that I 
must begin this required alteration with my aunt ; 
yet, from the satisfaction which I felt in my own 
mind, I was encouraged in the truth ; and from that 
time I did not shrink from that part of my testi- 
mony, except to my aunt, whom I in no way de- 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 13-5 

lighted to vex, and therefore, as much as possible, I 
evaded the singular language ; and jet, rather than 
use the plural, would many times break the thread 
of our discourse ; till I plainly saw it would not do, 
and that I must either break my peace, or commit 
myself to my aunt's fury. This I soon experienced ; 
for usiDg the word thee to her, it so inflamed her, 
that, as there stood a fire-shovel in her way, she took 
it up and struck at me. My sister being in the 
little room, caught hold of it, or she would probably 
have done as she had threatened, for the room or 
closet behind the shop was so narrow, that I had no 
room to draw back. Thus was I once more preserved ; 
but had reason to fear I should yet be the cause of 
bringing my aunt to much disgrace, as she often 
declared, that she believed it was no more sin to kill 
me, than a dog. 

I found she had heard of my being advised to leave 
the town ; and I believe, I suffered much for that 
kindness of my friends. My aunt's hopes seemed 
now, that either they would draw me, or she should 
drive me out of the town, for she said that, if I would 
be a Quaker, I should not be one in her sight. And 
now I had the former kind proffer renewed — P. Meller 
sending me an invitation to come to Whitehaugh, for 
a quarter of a year, till my aunt should be better 
reconciled. This was indeed a kind invitation from 
one that I had never spoken to ; and I might have 
gone, for any business or school that I then had ; for 
my aunt's behaviour had so frightened the scholars, 
that their parents thought fit to keep them at home ; 
and had it not been for the sake of seeing one called 
a Quaker, I should hardly have sold so many trifles 
as I did ; but there seemed a general curiosity to 
see me. 



136 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, (fee, 

Standing, thus, as an object of disdain and derision, 
I could willingly have accepted the kind invitation 
of my friends ; yet, when I cast my eye toward the 
Captain of my salvation, I found I had not liberty 
to move ; and therefore, with an acknowledgment of 
their kindness, I passed it by. 

Another proof of my aunt's unguarded passion soon 
after occurred, which was this : — we were sitting to- 
gether in the little room, as we very often did, and 
it was drawing towards the middle of the night ; 
when, in the course of our conversation, she obliged 
me to use that language which she could not bear, 
and a brass candlestick standing betwixt us, she 
flung it at me with such force, that it struck against 
the wall : I had just time to see her intention, and 
by stooping escaped the blow. Thus did David's 
God again preserve me, for the sake of the stem of 
Jesse, that now began to bud within my heart : and 
although I stood here in jeopardy of body, yet I was 
mercifully preserved in stability of soul, and in a 
supporting belief of being in the way of my duty ; 
and was favoured with hope as an anchor in this 
assurance, that if it pleased the Lord to permit the 
death of the mortal part, he would also be pleased to 
let his mercy light on my immortal soul, and I should 
die as a martyr to my faith in Christ. Yet, a fear 
for my aunt prevailed over me ; and though I had 
concealed her behaviour towards me as much as pos- 
sible, yet this I durst not conceal, lest I should be 
chargeable with the consequence. I therefore desired 
my sister to tell my uncle of this violent action, and 
my fears. He returned for answer, that whatever 
treatment I met with, was good enough for me ; and 
as to my aunt, it was impossible to keep her at home. 

The grief that I passed under, for fear of my aunt's 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 137 

going quite distracted, was great, and the bowings- 
down of soul and body were frequent, with earnest 
supplication to the Almighty for the preservation 
of us both — she in her senses, and me in the way of 
my duty towards him, and in a justifiable behaviour 
to my uncle and aunt. I believe my uncle had, at 
that time, more compassion for me than he would 
suffer to be seen : he had my aunt talked to, and 
would not suffer her to come at such unseasonable 
hours again ; for she had several times before spent 
most of the night with me alone ; and what I then 
received from her, the Almighty knows, and indeed, 
did make up to me in her reconciliation afterwards. 
Her nightly visits here ended ; but they had been so 
long continued, late and early, that I had habituated 
myself to spend the nights in the little closet, where 
I used to keep a fire. I sat much there, and when it 
was bed-time, if my aunt was absent, would put out 
my candle and sit as still as I could, lest I should be 
suspected of keeping disorderly hours. 

I had here no intimate to converse with, or en- 
courage me, and was left as a person quite alone ; but 
the immediate visitations of divine favour, at times, 
did most graciously establish my faith * and when 
almost overwhelmed, the Lord would, in the conde- 
scendings of his compassion, direct my mind to some 
passage in the Scriptures for my consolation ; and I 
seldom read, or contemplated on them without tears. 
Yet how quickly did I lose the sight and effect of 
these favours ; whilst, like a traveller, driven away 
from the haven of his happiness by contrary winds, I 
was forced by grief into a confusion of thoughts, 
having frequently sat under the violent suggestions 
of the enemy till two, three, four, or five o'clock in the 
morning ; and was sometimes no sooner in bed, than 



138 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

my aunt would call me up. It is hardly credible 
how little sleep I went with : but surely, I sympa- 
thized with my uncle and aunt in the affliction I gave 
them. Meat was to me as trifling as sleep, whereby 
I proved on what a little nature will subsist : my 
meals were no ways constant; a bit of bread and 
cheese with a little water or milk, or bread and 
butter with a dish of tea, were my only food for 
months; nor did I desire any thing else, till necessity 
obliged me to alter my course. 

My aunt, though under some restraint, used to tell 
me, she would make me suffer yet ; saying, no one 
had any business with what she did to me. One 
market- day, she followed me as I went behind the 
counter, and kept me there for some hours ; saying, 
she would hear my language to-day ; and though I 
desired her to let me go, yet she would not ; nor did 
I choose to put her away. I was, indeed, under 
exercise, and desirous to do my duty in the sight of 
the Divine Being, though apprehensive I must suffer 
for it. When any came into the shop, she told them, 
I was the new-made Quaker ; and filled those who 
were strangers to her, with admiration of us both ; 
and I may say, I blushed as much for her as for 
myself. Each time she thus exposed me, she held 
me by the left arm, which was next her ; and when 
I used the plain language, she pinched me very badly; 
and so often renewed her pinches, that it was very 
hard for me to bear them. Yet I saw no way to avoid 
her ill usage, without using her as I never had done, 
and bringing guilt on myself; I therefore endea- 
voured to hold out a little longer ; and have since 
wondered how I bore it without complaining. She 
had, indeed, inured me to suffer ; and, would often 
say, the Quakers had taught me ; and if she smote 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 139 

me on one cheek, I must turn the other. She tried 
me so much on this occasion, that I many times 
desired her to forbear ; yet had no hopes that she 
would regard my petition : but as my arm and hand 
were very visibly swelled, I wished them to plead 
for me ; and, by often looking at them, brought 
them under her notice; when she tauntingly said, "I 
doubt I have hurt thy arm ;" and in a little time 
went away. When she was gone, I tried to un- 
button my sleeve, but my arm being so very much 
swollen, I could not. 

Doctor Gravesnor's daughter, knowing my aunt 
had been with me a long time, and seeing her go out, 
stepped in, and helped me to unbutton my sleeve ; 
and seeing the condition I was in, went for her father. 
When my wristband was loose, my hand and arm 
swelled to such a degree, that, before the Doctor 
came, I could scarcely shut my fingers. When he 
saw my arm, he said it was a very bad bruise ; it 
seemed, for the space of the palm of the hand, to 
be like a jelly, and exceedingly black toward the 
shoulder. The Doctor seemed surprised, and said, he 
was afraid it would mortify ; then went home, and 
quickly returned with a medicine. He was one who 
had always shown me great respect ; and his daughters 
were my scholars, till my aunt thought proper to 
break up the school. I believe it was both from his 
respect and fear, that he took the freedom, after he 
had dressed my arm, to scold and blame me for my 
foolish, childish sufferance ; saying, my case was 
dangerous, and I might lose my arm, if not my life ; 
yet he added, that he would do all in his power to 
prevent it. I told him, I was satisfied with his kind- 
ness and judgment ; and I was more willing, at that 
time, to give up my life than my arm : yet 1 struggled 



140 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

in the secret of my mind to submit to the will of God; 
and the Doctor, seeing my tears fall, said, " Nay, in- 
deed, you have enough to bear, without being chid ;" 
and so I found ; for, besides my inward exercise, his 
application was very sharp. He often said he was 
afraid of the bone ; and that it was such a piece of 
cruelty, as none in their senses could be guilty of. 
He staid with me a good while, repeating the dress- 
ings often, which renewed the pain. My fingers were 
swollen, stiff, and useless, for I could neither close 
nor move them. The Doctor asked me, who I had 
to be with me, since I left my uncle's ; adding, that 
now I could not do without assistance ; and charging 
his daughter not to leave me, till I had got some- 
body. When he left me, he directly sent for my 
uncle, and told him in how unchristian-like a man- 
ner my aunt had used me ; adding, she was more fit 
to be bound, than to go loose ; and that he ought not 
to suffer her to come to me. My uncle promised she 
should not : yet this did not move his pity, to induce 
him to come and see me, which was what I greatly 
desired. 

It was a month before I could turn my arm behind 
me, to dress myself. My sister had been sent to 
school at Manchester, for fear, as I have thought, of 
her catching the infection of a Quaker ; nor did I 
much repine at the loss of her company, for I found 
that she had acted treacherously betwixt us. But 
few in this illness came to see me ; yet I heard that 
many were displeased at my aunt. Among those few 
that came, my present aunt, S. Whitehead, was one ; 
and her visit was very acceptable, though I had then 
no acquaintance with her. She spoke to my encou- 
ragement, and invited me, when I was better, to come 
to see her • which I could willingly have done, but 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 141 

thought proper to delay it some time, for fear my 
aunt should know it, who spared no one that she 
heard spoke to me in a friendly way. 

S. Taylor, at this time, lived with John Winter, at 
Stafford ; and, seeing my uncle and aunt's groundless 
dislike to that family, I had desired they would not 
visit me often. They saw my motive, excused the 
freedom I took with them, and when I went to them, 
behaved to me in a loving and free manner. 

Here I ought not, and hope I never shall, forget 
the best of visitors, the Invisible Comforter ; who, in 
a good degree, made my afflictions easy, and consoled 
my spirit, under a belief that I was persevering in 
the way of my duty. 

From the encouragement that I thus felt within, I 
was excited, as soon as proper, to endeavour to go to 
meeting again ; and when I had so far recovered as 
to dress myself, I thought, from my weakly state, it 
would be better for me to board in a family, that I 
might be in the way of getting such provision as my 
constitution required ; which had never been very 
strong, and was now much impaired by excess of 
trouble, and my different course of living. As there 
was a door from my apartment into the other part of 
the house, I thought it convenient to board with 
Thomas Turnock, who lived there ; and I was well 
satisfied to do so e 

I had now some hope, from my aunt's absence 
during; the last month, that she would no more inter- 
rupt me in going to meeting : but soon found it frus- 
trated, whether by accident or information, I know 
not. For, one day, when I came to the corner, near 
my uncle's house, I saw her coming towards me. The 
thoughts of the Doctor and my arm quickly occurred ; 
and I concluded, should I suffer it to be hurt again, 



142 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

the consequences would be very bad. As I was at 
liberty, it seemed right to keep so, and make the best 
of my way ; yet so embarrassed was I, that, before I 
had gone many yards, I faltered in my purpose, and 
my aunt got up with me, before I was half way to 
the meeting. I now saw my mistake, and that it 
would have been better if my aunt had overtaken me 
sooner ; for the place looked dangerous, and the want 
of room to shake and push me about, gave me many 
apprehensions that she would throw me headlong 
down the precipice. It was about the time that 
Friends were going into the meeting, and this vexed 
her the more ; for I have reason to believe she could 
not endure the sight of a Friend, on my account. She 
did not spare to tell me of hurting my arm, nor to 
shake me by it ; but as it had some folds of flannels 
around, it was preserved. My endeavour to outwalk 
her was not suddenly forgotten ; she, many times 
after, made mention of it, and would signify that God 
was above the wicked spirit still. 

Thus, with many admonitions and exhortations, as 
she called them, she kept me till the time when she 
might expect the meeting to break up, and then 
left me. 

Being at liberty, I went towards the meeting, and, 
as it was not over, I stepped within, that my aunt 
might know that my intention was resolute. This 
seemed to be a renewal of our acquaintance, for she 
soon repeated her visits, though not at the former 
unseasonable hours. 

I have, many times, seriously reflected how it was 
with me in these straits, and may acknowledge that 
my composure was owing to a divine power, which 
staid my mind on God, and kept down those pas- 
sions of nature, which otherwise might have exceeded 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 143 

their bounds. But, Oh ! the calmness and tran- 
quillity that did in these times of trial possess my 
heart, whilst innocency prevailed over shame : and I 
found, by submission to these lessons of mortification, 
that I grew in patience and resignation — in the desire 
after the Lord's favour, and the manifestation of his 
will, for he brought my heart into so good a degree 
of submission, that I was williug to undergo, or be 
termed anything, rather than lose the enjoyment of 
that in which I had now a small possession. 

It was about this time that I knew an ecstacy of 
joy, at the freely giving up my name to that, which 
I once thought the most despicable. There came a 
London haberdasher to my shop, with whom I dealt 
in business : he approached me in his customary 
manner j and as I did not answer his compliment, as 
usual, he looked full at me, and said, "Are you a 
Quaker V My soul was struck with this home ques- 
tion ; I solemnly answered, " Yes ;" and immediately 
a spring of joy seized my heart, accompanied with 
this desire, Not only a Quaker, Lord ; but grant me 
to be an Israelite indeed. 

From this time my good desires were strengthened, 
and the ambition of being an Israelite, became my 
exercise. But here I cannot but remark, how like a 
fool I appeared in my own eyes ; for there seemed as 
great an alteration in me as could possibly happen 
from such a change. I could not now be fluent in 
compliments, and saw it best to keep out of extra- 
vagance of words, and such a latitude in discourse as 
I formerly indulged in. So many cross words and 
knotty queries lay in the way of all I seemed to have 
to do, that nature was abashed, almost beyond the 
hope of recovery ; yet I often contemplated the benefit 
that accrued to Zaccheus from that heavenly call, 



144 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

" Make haste, and come down :" and how willingly 
would I have made my situation similar to his; 
believing there was something in that call alluding 
to the glories of eternity ; which now appeared of 
brighter lustre to my eye, than all the glittering 
objects of a transitory life. Surely the time would 
glide sweetly on, in reciting those refreshing prospects 
which attended my intervals of grief ; but the sequel 
of my history calls on me to cross my inclination. 

It was about this time that John Toft gave me 
an expectation of a visit ; but that evening I was 
threatened with a disappointment ; for, my aunt came 
in high displeasure, and by her upbraidings raised a 
crowd about the door, which occasioned him to pass 
by. When she had wrought herself into a disposition 
to be more quiet, she shut the door and sat down. I 
turned out of my mind the thoughts of her unkind 
behaviour, yet could not help feeling regret at the 
loss of the Friend's company, being desirous to see 
him, as he had been instrumental for my good. 
Whilst I was musing on these things, a messenger 
came and told me, that although my aunt was there, 
if I thought it convenient, he would come to see me. 
I hesitated a little, to prove what would be best ; 
knowing my aunt's weakness, that she would not 
spare me, nor mind, in her passion, what she expressed; 
yet hoping, as it was his desire to come, that he would 
excuse what might fall upon himself, and see through 
the falsities she might cast on me. 

With this conclusion I requested his company; 
and my aunt being present, said she would stay to 
see this Friend. On his knocking, I let him in, with 
a degree of fear, and watched to hear the salutation 
she gave him ; which was : — " Thou deceiver ! thou 
antichrist ! thou hast seduced this silly wretch." 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 145 

Had she known what my heart could have told her, 
she might have thought differently ; for on the 
appearance of the Friend, I was made very sensible 
of that power by which I had been drawn into the 
truth. 

He endeavoured to shew her the unreasonableness 
of her charge, by assuring her, he had never had any 
conversation with me, nor had visited me before. 
She answered, " If thou hast not, thy brethren have ;" 
and proceeded with violence against the Quakers. 
He still tried to engage her attention, by reminding 
her that his mother and she used, as neighbours, to 
be acquainted : she signified that was true, and if 
ever there was a good Quaker in the world, his mother 
was one. 

She walked to and fro between the shop and the 
closet, laying many heavy things to my charge, which 
I had learned with silence to bear, till she touched 
my modesty, and told the Friend the freedom which, 
she said, I gave to young men ; when I desired her 
to keep to the truth. She said, " If I spoke another 
word, she would knock my head against the wall ;" 
which, I well knew, a word or two more would have 
aggravated her to do. Upon his asking, " How long I 
had been so bad," she said, " ever since I had been 
deluded; for I was well enough before I was be- 
witched." 

Thus she went on, as long, I believe, as she had 
power ; for, going out, she said, " I will go, but I will 
come again." But she came no more till next day, 
when she laid on me with blows, saying that I sent 
for the Friend on purpose to vex her. She had 
shewed so much of her passion, as to make the Friend 
remark to me, that he could think no other than that 
she was out of her senses ; and that he could not see, 

L 



146 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

if I had not truth for my foundation, how it was 
possible for me to stand. I told him that I had no 
other view of coming amongst Friends, than to pro- 
cure the truth and peace of God unto my soul ; and 
that I had still hopes I should be preserved. He 
observed to me the emptiness of a barren .profession ; 
and advised me to wait on God in the secret of my 
heart, to rely on his wisdom, and to trust in his 
power, expressing a desire that I might be preserved ; 
and adding, he would have come to see me sooner, 
but found himself engaged to take the apostle's ad- 
vice, to " lay hands suddenly on no one ;" and, after 
kindly inviting me to his house, took leave. This 
visit I returned irf about a month. 

When he was gone, I considered what had passed, 
and was thankful to the Great Disposer of all things. 
I thought there was somewhat extraordinary in my 
aunt's leaving us, for she had never left me with any 
person before, and I was glad I had an opportunity 
of gaining such instruction, as I had never before 
received in conversation ; nor could I less admire the 
Friend's prudent care, in observing the apostle's ad- 
vice, which I had before thought alluded only to the 
laying on of the bishop's hands, at the time of the 
young student's admission into holy orders, and the 
confirmation of youth. But now I knew, by expe- 
rience, that, for want of prudence in particulars, I 
had been a sufferer : and, as an instance, shall men- 
tion one of the most uneasy meetings I ever attended ; 
which was occasioned by a Friend's over-care, who 
had often pressed me to come up higher than where 
I frequently sat. I remarked, that the highest place 
in the meeting would be as little regarded by my 
aunt as the lowest, should she be inclined to make 
a disturbance there ; jet } on frequent importunity, 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 147 

being willing to shew some respect to the Friend's 
advice, I was prevailed with to advance a form or 
two. But when she came and saw I had not 
thoroughly taken her advice, she took me by the 
arm; and though I signified my desire of sitting 
still, as far as civility would bear, yet she compelled 
me to rise, and notwithstanding I shewed a desire 
of turning in at the first and the second seat I came 
to, yet she would not let me rest, till she had placed 
me by herself. Then, Oh ! the hurries that my mind 
was in ; for surely, had my aunt herself been there, 
she could not have confused my thoughts half so 
much ; for though, at this time, when at meetings, 
I had a desire to draw nigh with Friends in spirit, 
yet it went much against my inclination to sit so 
near the place which, my aunt used to tell me, must 
be my seat ; saying, all proselytes must be made 
preachers, and tell to the brethren the abominations 
of the wicked. Often would she tease me with such 
things ; well knowing, I had in my nature a great 
aversion to women's preaching. 

Here I sat, in a restless condition, several times 
purposing to go out ; yet the regard I had for the 
Friend prevailed on me to stay. Glad, however, was 
I when the meeting broke up ; and when it was over 
she gave me her hand ; which I answered with my 
own, in token of forgiving her too forward, though 
loving act ; yet not without telling her, when at 
home, the trouble she had given me, and desiring her 
never to use me so again. 

Shall I here say, that good came out of evil i 
no surely, but sweet came out of bitter ; for by 
this Friend's freedom of giving me her hand, several 
that were in the meeting did the same ; and though 
this did not prove a time of confirmation to my faith, 

l 2 



148 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

but rather otherwise ; yet it seemed like a sign of 
union, no one having done so before, and was pleasant. 

I lost, for a time, the deep impression which the 
Friend's apprehension of my aunt's being distracted, 
had made on my mind ; but thought afterwards, if, 
from the little he saw, he entertained apprehensions 
of that kind, what had I to fear, who had seen her so 
many times, a great deal worse ; yet, what could I do, 
or what was there to be done ; I could not renounce 
my salvation in order to appease my aunt. 

These reflections caused distress in my counte- 
nance, which occasioned my aunt to say, she read the 
very Quaker in my face. 

It seemed hardly possible I could ever know any 
sorrow like what I then felt ; and my aunt, either 
by information, or her own observation, became ac- 
quainted with it ; and by many frantic gestures, 
wrought in me a belief, that she was really as I 
imagined. My soul now fled to the Almighty for 
refuge, and I sat before her a witness of her frantic 
behaviour, with more solidity and composure than 
she expected. At last, she came up to me, and said 
" I am mad ; thou, thou hast driven me mad ! and 
I am mad 1" I was surprised to hear her say so, and 
thought there was some hope for me, as she had yet 
so much reason left as to tell me of the thing she 
knew I was so afraid of. 

Upon my shewing so much indifference about it, 
she abandoned that scheme, and soon after, as one 
fainting in her hopes of victory, desisted from inter- 
rupting me in the street ; yet, wishing to obstruct 
my desire of going to meeting, she would come to 
my room before the hour appointed ; telling me, we 
would have a silent meeting, and I would gladly 
have had her keep to it, but it seemed an impossi- 
bility on her part. 






OF MARGARET LUCAS. 149 

When I saw it was her intention, by this practice, 
to keep me at home, in order to prevent it, I set out 
so much the sooner; and she, on the other hand, 
came still earlier, till she saw, that unless she rose 
sooner in the morning, my resolutions would outgo 
hers. 

Many were the paces which I was forced to take 
in the fields on this account ; but my labour was not 
in vain, for my aunt then left me to my liberty, and 
many precious meetings I eojoyed. As I had nothing 
of tradition to trust to, when there, my earnest desire 
was to seek the Lord • and he was found of my soul, 
to my inexpressible consolation. 

In respect to silent meetings, my spiritual exer- 
cises at home had taught me how to improve by 
them : my heart inclining rather to sit in fear and 
reverence, and to watch against the tumult of un- 
necessary thoughts, than to be busy, as formerly, in 
the florid appearances of lip-worship. But yet, I 
would not have it supposed, that I knew no difficulty 
in my exercises ; for surely, I have often felt the 
throng of natural cogitations to press so closely upon 
me, that I have found cause to implore the divine aid, 
and to breathe forth this ejaculation; Lord, if thou 
keep not the city, the watchman waketh but in vain ! 

But though I was freed from my aunt's molestations, 
I found it was only as the changing of a scene, and 
that the subtlety of the serpent was now more dan- 
gerous to me, than the rage of the lion had been. 

My freedom of attending meetings, from which I 
had hitherto been much restrained, and the Lord's 
mercy in subduing those spirits which were a hin- 
derance to my soul's serenity, I could not but grate- 
fully acknowledge, with desires that I might answer 
the obligation. But I was yet inexperienced in the 



150 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

craft of the enemy and deceiver of men, and needed 
the assistance of some prudent intimate friend, whose 
counsel might have set right bounds to my zeal. 
This subtle one, taking advantage of my earnestness, 
cunningly twined a thread of his own into that work 
which I was endeavouring to render acceptable to 
my God. I had, till this time, been taken up in 
seeking after an increase and establishment in the 
knowledge of the truth, and in keeping up a strict 
circumspection in my behaviour, that thereby I 
might not give my relations and acquaintances just 
occasion of trouble, or a pretence for vilifying the way 
of truth. 

I had not yet made any great observations on 
dress, but thought to make a stand, and judge what 
was best to be done ; and doubtless, so far I was in 
the right, whilst I made some alterations. 

But now I found the prowling adversary, what he 
ever was — a malicious, deceitful, twining serpent, who, 
if he can but get in his head at the least opening of 
our inadvertency, will soon introduce his body, under 
an appearance of sanctity, to effect, if possible, the 
utter destruction of the soul. He saw that his aim 
of drawing me into any gross, obvious evil, was 
defeated ; and as I had seen less of his stratagems in 
the angelical form, he now insinuated himself into 
my desires of being zealous for the honour of God, 
and elevated me above my proper height ; so that I 
fell to judging, cutting, and trimming off every super- 
fluous scrap from my dress ; and not content with 
this, I went from my apparel to my shop. In less 
than a week, I made several sacrifices of value ; and 
so hurried was I in this blind zeal, that I seemed 
impatient for more fuel. And having gone through, 
as I thought, at home j I next let out the busy eye 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 151 

on others. There were but few who escaped my 
judgment, forgetting that tender advice (Luke vi. 37,) 
" Judge not, and ye shall not be judged ; condemn 
not, and ye shall not be condemned." I noticed each 
point of behaviour and apparel ; till so great a critic 
had 1 become, that I seemed all speculation on the 
more minute things ; neglecting the weightier mat- 
ters, as faith, mercy, and the love of God, which, 
surely, I ought to have regarded, though not to have 
left the other wholly undone. 

To what extravagance 1 had gone in this respect, 
the all-penetrating Eye best saw, and was pleased to 
look in compassion on the mistake of my intentions, 
and most graciously to illumine my understanding ; 
giving me plainly to see, that I was quite out of that 
charity, without which, the apostle says, all our works 
profit nothing. So tenaciously did I adhere to this 
thing, that I saw not the deceiver, till I discovered 
such passions predominant in me, as I had never 
observed before. My temper became uncharitable, 
and unmerciful ; I looked with an evil eye on the 
innocent ; and was incapable of either pleasing my- 
self or being pleased with others. But according to 
the greatness of my error herein, so was my abase- 
ment ; and I was at length brought down so low, as 
to be capable of hearing the small voice of Wisdom, 
saying, "Who hath required this at thy hand V. 

Now was I filled with shame ; the serpent had 
beguiled me, and by his cunning had given me more 
uneasiness than by all his roaring. I acknowledged 
my fault, and begged forgiveness and future protec- 
tion of the Almighty ; who in his great condescen- 
sion, made up the breach and restored the path to 
walk in. Yet had I given the vaunting one room to 
sport with my indiscretion ! and he would often 



152 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

bring into my thoughts the loss I had sustained, by 
his poisonous insinuations, even when no more of the 
effect of it remained than was necessary to guard me 
against the same devices in future. 

This exercise was scarcely abated, before another 
trial occurred. — My relations being still displeased 
that I should stay in the town, thought of another 
stratagem, which greatly surprised me, and added to 
the trouble which the destruction of my substance, 
as before related, had given me. 

My uncle having been to London about our affairs, 
reported on his return, that, on account of a large 
debt of my father's, who had been dead thirteen years, 
a suit in Chancery was commenced against him. This 
report ran current ; and my uncle gave out, that as 
I was under age, he would take again those effects 
which he had put into my hands, though I had not 
received one quarter of my equivalent. 

The unwelcome intelligence was brought to me by 
many. I say unwelcome, because I had contracted 
some debts in the way of business, which, my uncle 
said, he could and would refuse to pay. My aunt 
had broken up my school, and my former acquain- 
tance having withdrawn their custom, my trade was 
at a stand, and had been so above a year, except for 
some few trifles, as before mentioned ; so that I was 
now sensible, that the things I had destroyed were 
not my own. Having some acquaintance with Coun- 
sellor Hollingshead, I laid before him my straits, and 
he civilly told me, I might be quite easy on account 
of the debt; adding that, if there had been any truth 
in it, he should have heard of it from my uncle, who 
used to take his advice ; and besides, he knew my 
father's creditors had met with due honour. In 
respect to my uncle's taking back the effects he had 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 153 

entrusted me with, it was at his pleasure, and he 
might refuse to pay the debts contracted, if the bills 
were made in my name, unless he had given his 
promise to pay them. The Counsellor desired me, if 
I had any farther trouble, to let him know it, and he 
would speak to my uncle for me. 

Thus was I fully satisfied concerning my fathers 
debt ; and, in a little time after, was comfortably 
visited with the breathings-in of the love of God, in 
these few comprehensive words ; u Fear not, I have 
overcome the world." Had my trouble been even 
redoubled, like Job's, surely I should in this season of 
favour have forgotten it. Yet when it subsided, I 
found there remained two occasions for sorrowful 
reflection : the one was — -paying off my creditors ; 
which I soon got over, as I had cash enough to 
balance all but one, from whom I had received a 
parcel, which, through the smallness of business, was 
nearly entire j and this I sent back, with money to 
answer any deficiency or damage. It was kindly re- 
ceived, and I was very easy respecting it. But as to 
the other affair — by destroying the articles, I had put 
it out of my power to restore them ; and this dwelt 
longer with me ; yet, as I lived to come of age, I took 
the debt myself, and became reconciled to bear it ; 
though not without a belief, that if I had had a friend 
to give me advice, it would have been otherwise. 

Here I bemoaned myself before the Almighty, that 
I had lost my parents, disobliged my relations, and 
had no friend to take more notice of me than is 
common amongst the generality of professors ; and, 
indeed, how could I expect that any would busy 
themselves to take the care of me, in any degree, 
without my express desire ? 

I became more and more sensible of the danger to 



154 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

which my years, as well as other circumstances, might 
expose me ; and I preferred many strong desires to 
the Most High, that, in his wisdom he would appoint 
for me a faithful friend, who would check my errors, 
as well as encourage me in virtue ; one that was 
capable of instructing me by experience. These 
desires were often accompanied with a promissory 
hope and belief, that I could subject myself to the 
counsel, and bear the reproof of such an one ; but 
where to find such a friend I knew not ; I was afraid 
to trust my own judgment, and often supplicated the 
Invisible Being to direct me in the choice. 

Accordingly, it thus happened : J. Toft was visited 
with sickness, and brought so low, that several Friends 
who met, did not know but it must be to take their 
final adieu. I had also the favour to be in the cham- 
ber, and heard many things worthy of regard ; but 
that which struck me most deeply was, his expression 
of an earnest desire for my preservation in the truth, 
and a kind recommendation of me, as a young person, 
to the Friends present, that they would have me 
under their notice. I was truly touched with this 
sense of paternal care, and secretly desired his life, 
and the restoration of his health ; which, as it pleased 
the Almighty to grant, I was no longer at a loss for a 
friend; conceiving that in him, whose kindness towards 
me was manifested under such circumstances, I might 
reasonably hope to find such an one as I desired. 
From that time I looked on him with a just regard, 
and with a resolution that, whenever I found occa- 
sion for advice, I would apply to him for it. Nor 
was it long before my exigency seemed to require it. 

The Beloved of my soul, who, in my tender state, 
had so graciously replenished my heart, now hid his 
face from me; and I was not indulged with those 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 155 

times of solace, which I before had so plenteously 
enjoyed : I waited and waited the return of the 
dearest object of my soul, often querying, Why stayeth 
my Beloved so long ? or, What have I done since his 
last visitations, to occasion his thus hiding himself 
from me ? Impatient, I sought him in my chamber, 
in meetings, and in the fields — places where I had 
used to receive his favour ; but these seemed now to 
have lost their lustre, as well as my Beloved his bene- 
volence towards me. I sought him, but I found him 
not : like the spouse, in the Canticles, I was ready to 
ask, Have you seen my Beloved \ I was disconsolate 
days and nights, and I may say, I mourned as one 
wanting her mate. Still I thought my tears moved 
not his pity, and his ear seemed deaf to all my cries ; 
whilst the imperious watchman wounded me, and 
the cruel enemy upbraided me with all I had gone 
through for my Beloved's sake, telling me I had better 
have staid in Egypt, than thus to languish in the 
wilderness. Great were the conflicts I here met with, 
not knowing why it should be thus : and fearing I 
was dying to all that was spiritual, I at length re- 
solved to make application to my friend. 

I went to his house ; and while I waited a suitable 
opportunity to speak to him, the tears trickled down 
my cheeks : yet when I had unbosomed my com- 
plaint, I received great satisfaction ; for, from his 
kind inquiry of my past conduct, I found my opinion 
of his friendship confirmed. From his tender advice 
my soul was encouraged to hope a little longer : and, 
to my inexpressible joy, in some days after, I felt the 
influence of Divine Love suggesting to my mind, 
Follow on to know the Lord ; Joseph, the spiritual 
Joseph, is yet alive. Oh ! surely here I found again 
that inestimable jewel, the pearl of my best affection, 



156 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

and the life of my hope, with such revivings as Jacob 
experienced, when he saw the assurance of the wel- 
fare of his son : "and my soul bowed under an humble 
sense of gratitude ; saying, It is enough, I will go 
down and see him ere I die. 

It was a time of true humility, tenderness, and 
love. My covenant was renewed ; and it remained 
for some time as a summer season, or, " as_ the time 
when the voice of the turtle is heard." Yet at inter- 
vals, 1 could not but reflect on former days, and 
conclude, that the smallest degree of my uncle and 
aunt's reconciliation, would add to my happiness. As 
these thoughts increased, so did my desire of making 
a trial ; and one evening I went to their house, and 
knocked at the door, stranger-like, as indeed I was, 
not having been there for above two years. 

Their maid let me in ; and I suppose I much 
surprised them. They were sitting alone by the fire. 
I just said, " How do you do ?" and stood within the 
house, a little distant from the door. My uncle looked 
very sorrowful, and if he spoke at that time, he only 
said, " I have no pleasure in seeing thee." My aunt 
said enough, and called me many impudencies for 
coming. I stood about half an hour, and then bidding 
them farewell, my aunt came with me a part of the 
way back, scolding me as we went. I thought this 
was but poor encouragement, yet was truly glad I 
had seen them. 

In about six weeks, I had a desire to go again. 
I went in the former manner, knocked, and stood as 
before ; and after a little while my uncle said, " Thou 
mayst sit down." My aunt then fetched some books, 
(which, I believe, were the same that Bennet would 
have lent me),* and read several absurd passages ; to 
* See page 115. 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 157 

which I only said, " I hope you do not thiok that 
any sect can be so ridiculous as to believe and prac- 
tise those things." During this interview my uncle 
sat at a distance ; I staid a little longer than before, 
and my aunt let me come home quietly. 

Thus I went several times to see them, watching 
for permission; believing, that to go without it, might 
expose me to danger : but in my fourth or fifth visit, 
my uncle said to the maid, " Set her something to 
eat." I could truly have said that his love was suf- 
ficient ; for I was so satisfied with this little return 
of it, and with my aunt's increased quietness, that 
my heart was ready to overflow. I went to the table, 
and before I ate, a contrite thanksgiving arose in my 
soul to God. 

After this, I took the liberty to go at sundry times 
to see them, and had frequent opportunities to re- 
mark, that I still had a place in their affection ; 
which answered my desire ; nor could I hope for 
more, as there always was, and is, a contrariety be- 
twixt the spiritual and natural dispositions. They 
continued to return my visits, and behaved kindly to 
me ever after. 

A little past the twenty-fourth year of my age, I 
was married, with the approbation of my friends, 
to Samuel Lucas : he was a worthy man and well 
respected. My uncle would not come to the meet- 
ing, but came to our dinner ; and my aunt visited 
us the next day. They both behaved lovingly and 
affectionately to my kind husband ; and afterwards, 
were very tender of our children, my aunt exceed- 
ingly so ; and indeed, it yields me satisfaction, as 
often as I remember the public testimonies she gave, 
before her death, of my behaviour towards her in the 
time of my convincement. Though I believe, she 



158 AN ACCOUNT OF THE OONVINCEMENT, &C, 

continued to think it was right in her to restrain me 
from going on in a way so different from her own 
judgment, and from what she thought was right; 
yet she acknowledged that she was angry, and ex- 
ceeded proper bounds ; and that she never saw me 
behave unbecomingly, or heard me give her an un- 
handsome word. She was, again, as civil to Friends 
as before I went to meetings ; and at times asked 
several Friends of my acquaintance to her house, and 
entertained them freely. 

I may now conclude my narrative thus far, with 
truly saying, how blessed I was in my situation ! 
having a loving, kind, and tender husband ; our 
lawful endeavours made prosperous ; the affections of 
my relations restored ; and, above all, the blessing of 
the Almighty sanctifying these enjoyments to my 
soul, to the praise and adoration of his love. Here 
was I permitted to dwell as under the pavilion of the 
goodness of God, yet not without something still to 
combat with in my secret exercises. 

I thus persevered comfortably for two years after 
my marriage, when the best Physician, whose pene- 
trating eye saw the malady of my soul, prepared a 
bitter cup for the purging out a venom that lurked 
there, which I had imbibed from the malicious adver- 
sary of truth, before, and even after, my going to 
meetings, and which remained to this time. Hence 
issued a fiery trial, by which my professions of faith 
and affection were to be proved. 

This may well be as a second part of my history, 
and was the most trying, as it went very near to my 
spiritual as well as temporal life. The war was not 
with flesh and blood, but with the Majesty on high; 
under the prince of the power of the air, who rules 
in the children of disobedience. 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 159 

I have before observed, that to be an Israelite 
indeed, had attracted my desires ; but little did I 
suspect what I had to undergo, before my heart was 
cleansed from guile, and delivered from that wrath 
which the enemy had been heaping up in me against 
the day of wrath. 

To introduce this heavy relation, I must go back 
to my childhood, and say, — that the first time I ever 
heard a woman preach, from a prejudice imbibed 
from my companions, and probably, an aversion in 
my own nature, I thought it very ridiculous ; and 
the oftener I had opportunities to witness it, the more 
I secretly despised it. At the time that I joined 
with Friends, this was one of my strongest objec- 
tions to them ; but I endeavoured to silence it, by 
concluding, that others might do as they pleased, and 
so would I. 

My aunt, as I have hinted, often alluded to it, 
as she knew my dislike to the practice, from my 
former confession ; and I have no doubt ; the serpent, 
by means of this prejudice, injected his venom the 
more deeply ; for since I have found out his work- 
ings, I have remembered a secret fear, which I had 
at times on this account, and which this cunning- 
enemy had allayed, by reminding me of my many 
protestations against it. The apprehension, how- 
ever, continued, that I should certainly become a 
preacher, which greatly distressed me : the allowance 
of women's preaching being the only dislike I had to 
the discipline and order of the church ; yet still I 
satisfied myself with many inconsiderate resolves 
against it. 

A good opportunity was allotted me for shaking off 
those shackles which the fiend was fastening on me ; 



160 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

but which I lost, and have remembered it many times 
with sorrow. — Being in discourse with a Friend, he 
frankly asked me, if I had any scruples 1 or whether 
I was satisfied with the principles of Friends 1 I 
stopped short in my mind, apprehending, if I should 
mention women's preaching, that he would think I 
spoke with regard to myself. Thus was I baffled ; 
and I answered, that I was satisfied in the principle 
itself. At that time my idea of preaching was, that 
it was an act of love and friendship, separate from 
obedience ; and glad could I have been, like Moses, 
if all the Lord's people had been so inclined ; women 
excepted. 

I continued thus for some years, till I became such 
a slave to my fears, that I could not say, " Thy will, 
Lord, be done ;" but, like Naaman, the captain of 
Syria, would fain be excused from this thing. I now 
began to believe that such exposures were something 
more than voluntary offerings, and was convinced, 
from many proofs, that my state had been as clearly 
spoken to by my own sex, as by the other ; yet, such 
was my perverseness, that, one day, I had much 
difficulty to stay the meeting, [when a woman Friend 
ministered,] though I could not help acknowledging 
within myself, that it would have been an acceptable 
testimony, had it come from a man. Thus great was 
my prejudice ; but greater, yes I may say, infinitely 
greater, were the condescensions of God ; for I was 
still favoured in my waitings with a sense of his living 
presence. The mysteries of true divinity were opened 
to my understanding ; and through the influences of 
divine love has my cup overflowed with such acknow- 
ledgments as these — " Oh, my Beloved ! if thou dealest 
so bountifully with me, my breast will be too narrow 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 161 

to contain thy love ; Oh ! withhold thy hand, or I 
shall certainly speak of thy goodness to others." And 
I really believe, had I embraced that opportunity, 
and joined with the Lord in his workings on my 
mind, I should have been delivered from my fears 
and escaped those cross occurrences which I have 
since waded through : but here my poor soul shrunk 
from the cross of Christ, whose yoke, to the passive 
mind, becomes easy and his burden light. Such was 
my weakness, that through short-sightedness and the 
false suggestions of the enemy, I started aside ; and 
may truly say, the longer I carried my burden the 
heavier it proved : and I now have, with regret, to 
look back and confess, that instead of closing with 
the visitations of love, I joined with my inveterate 
enemy, and resolved not to wait for or encourage 
any farther discoveries. Thus did I harden myself, 
wretched creature that I was ! And when I have felt 
the power of the Almighty moving with love upon 
my mind, I have no less than said, " I will have 
no more understanding;" and have sundry times 
shut my eyes when the book has been, as it were, put 
into my hand, and the best Interpreter has been near.. 
So I withstood that tender love which followed me ; 
and have risen from my chair to fix my thoughts on 
other objects. 

My soul is deeply affected with the goodness of 
God in the continuation of his mercies towards me, 
and under a sense of the sad state I was then in, 
whilst the enemy had rule, and He who shed for me 
his most precious blood, was rejected at the hazard 
of the salvation of my soul ; so I sat down far short 
of a true Israelite. 

Thus went I on, stifling conviction, till I was lulled 
into a spiritual lethargy ; in which I lay, till the 

M 



162 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

compassionate God, who wills not the death of a 
sinner, was pleased to arouse me to a consideration of 
what I had been doing : and I found enough to do 
to keep from sinking under the bitter reflections I 
had brought upon myself by my rebellious proceed- 
ings : yet through the unutterable goodness of God, 
I was again revived by his favours. 

Having recovered a little from this state of deep 
affliction, I was visited with weakness of body ; so that 
both myself and others thought I was near death : 
but it pleased the Lord, in an unexpected hour, to 
give me this assurance — " Thou shalt not die, but live, 
to declare what I have done for thee," This was 
still so contrary to my desires, that I could not 
rejoice at the lengthening of my days ; for now I 
believed I should certainly be tried. Oh ! the days 
and nights of conflict that followed this intimation. 
My countenance changed, my health seemed daily 
impaired ; the solitary places were made witnesses of 
my grief; and as the years increased so did my 
exercise, till I had another visitation of sickness, 
and was, to all appearance, past recovery. Most 
willingly would I have yielded unto death ; choosing 
rather to die than live to be any more disobedient : 
and it pleased the Lord to prove me again and again 
in the secret of my soul, whether I would live to be 
obedient to his requirings, or die : my choice was, 
rather to die than live to be a preacher. Yet it 
pleased him in his wisdom to raise me again, con- 
trary to the expectation of those that beheld me ; 
none of whom, at this time, knew any thing of the 
exercise of my mind, which increased to such a de- 
gree as cannot well be expressed. My body trembled 
as a thing shaken ; and my groans were like those of 
a dying person. But I had learned, by dear expe- 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 163 

rience, to cleave unto the Lord ; and when I felt the 
power, what if I say, of his might, I sought out 
places most proper to receive it, and bowed in pros- 
tration : from the weight of it I have affectionately 
burst forth in this language, " Lord, what wouldst 
thou have me to do V And as I believed it was a 
preparation for a further exercise, I often begged 
that he would be pleased to make me able to bear 
whatever he should think meet, in his wisdom, to lay 
upon me : indeed, sweet was his love and merciful 
his dealings, many times renewing his covenant with 
my soul. Yet here I was not to continue, but was 
led again to the test of my fidelity. 

Being in meeting, in a comfortable frame of spirit, 
I found a motion in my soul to worship God in vocal 
prayer ; and although I had known the same power 
in my own chamber, and with pleasure submitted to 
it there, yet here, not yielding to the impulse, my 
heart and all that was within me became confused ; 
the whole fabric was shaken : and this was taken notice 
of by a Friend that sat behind me, who, as soon as 
meeting was over, asked me how I did ; saying, she was 
sure I had been ill. I answered, (as well I might,) that 
I was but indifferent. This seemed a good caution to 
me, as I desired to keep my exercise to myself. 

Not many more meetings passed before I was tried 
again ; when I fixed my body as firmly as I could, 
but found it impossible to still my mind, knowing 
too well how it was with me ; though the whisperer 
would persuade me it was all imagination. 

In this way I trifled so long, that the displeasure 
of the Almighty seemed hot against me, and life and 
death were set before me. I was in confusion, both 
at home and abroad, washing myself any other crea- 
ture. I harassed myself, till I could bear it no longer; 

m 2 



164 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C, 

and at length concluded it would be best to mention 
it to a Friend : I did so, and be signified that it had 
been for some time on his thoughts that something of 
that sort lay upon me. And though I here proved, 
that it was not in man, by the force of argument and 
tender advice, to subject my stubborn will, yet I re- 
ceived some advantage, and acknowledged the truth of 
his remarks : I did not, however, closely follow them, 
but became in myself as a piece of contradiction. Some- 
times I would follow the Lord, and then resolve other- 
wise : I went to meetings as a slave goes to his labour. 
At home I durst not sit down in solitude, being sure 
to meet with judgment ; and into company I could 
not go, without wounding myself by pretending to be 
what I was not ; I was unwilling to be suspected of 
being grave, and concluded that every one who looked 
on me earnestly, knew how it was with me. 

Thus was I harassed, as betwixt the upper and the 
nether millstone; often wishing for death, and that I 
never had been born. Great was my strait ; I could 
not go back again, because I was not able to shake 
off the principle of truth , but had thoughts of fling- 
ing myself into the jaws of death. Yet, for ever 
praised be the name of the Lord, his mercy withheld 
the devourer and preserved me ; giving me to see into 
his false insinuations, and to believe that the life, 
which it was in his power to take at his pleasure, 
would not be a sufficient atonement for those rebel- 
lions I had been guilty of; and I was brought to an 
abhorrence of the thoughts which I had conceived. 
Herein did the goodness of the Lord appear so evi- 
dently, that I resolved to keep close to meetings. 
But alas ! when there, instead of keeping close to 
my exercise, through fear I kept myself from it, and 
sat, as it appeared to me, empty, void, and waste ; 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 165 

- — empty of tliose desires I used to possess— void of 
all that was good — and waste, as being laid aside by 
the Almighty ; and all through a slavish fear that I 
could not draw nigh to God. I sat as though I had 
nothing to do but to see, with a wishful eye, others 
partake of that food which my soul stood in need 
of, Yet my state was different from that of being 
at ease in Zion • for when I looked at those who, I 
thought, were in a right frame of mind, they seemed 
to me to be feeding at the Lord's table, while my 
hungry soul stood in a state of estrangement from 
him, without courage enough to seek the scattered 
crumbs. 

Thus it was with me many days ; till in one meet- 
ing, growing faint, a state of drowsiness overtook me, 
a thing with which I was not naturally beset ; yet 
so far did it prevail, that I was forced to pinch myself, 
to keep awake. Now I thought myself worse than 
ever I had been in my life ; for in childhood I had 
the form, which I left to possess the power. Here I 
found not so easy an access as I had expected ; and 
though I sought and sought, instead of meeting with 
my True Friend, I met with my enemy, dressed in the 
doctrine of election and reprobation. Into this I 
had been led some years before, and now I had much 
difficulty, through the sense of my own unworthiness, 
to shake it off; labouring hard against the tempta- 
tion of destroying myself, and foolishly wishing that 
some accident would do that office. But here the 
riches of God's grace again appeared : I was brought 
to see and acknowledge, that if my soul perished 
eternally, the Lord was but just in his dealings with 
me ; and these considerations had some effect. I 
desired to be brought back to my former state, that 
I might have access to his power, be a witness of his 



166 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C., 

love, and be tried once more. My pen would fail, 
fully to set forth the condescensions and long-suffer- 
ings of the goodness of my Creator towards me. I 
here knew my pardon sealed : but my peace lasted 
not long ; for I was quickly tried again and again ; 
and still I did not give up. I was sensible that I 
flinched from that Power which was ready as a hand 
to help me, and therefore became worse and worse, 
" It will never be better with thee/' suggested the 
enemy. I knew not which way to turn : I was 
weary of my own obstinacy, and would now see what 
I could gain by self-mortification ; and as I could 
not work, I would eat but little. I studied several 
ways to afflict myself ; and have thought, glad should 
I be if I had no tongue. Here again I knew the 
old prompter to be near to augment my distress ; 
which, with my own disobedience, made the whole 
creation appear to be against me. Oh ! I was in such 
perplexity, that I said, Now shall I fall by the hand 
of my enemy. I fretted and chafed at myself and 
every thing about me, and could not attain true sub- 
mission. 

At one time, as I was seriously reflecting on my 
situation, these thoughts passed my mind and sur- 
prised me ; " If thou be a God of power, make me 
willing." This was no sooner past, but they were 
followed by the suggestion, " Soul, detest thou this 
presumption ; for though he is a God of power, it is 
in his own time that he will redeem." I was asto- 
nished, and said, c • Lord, what is it ? " and it came 
thus before me ; " There is war in heaven, Michael 
and the dragon." When the flutter was over, I re- 
membered the passage where it is said, " In the day 
of my power my people shall be a willing people ;" 
and I was comforted by it. 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 167 

There also fell out another singular occurrence 
about this time, which I cannot well omit. I was 
fully persuaded that if I went on in this obstinacy, 
my house would be laid waste ; and within a month 
afterwards, we had, in the view of many spectators, a 
wonderful deliverance from fire : during which, whilst 
others were busy in considering how it should have 
happened, I was as busy in reflecting on myself as the 
cause ; which weighed me down in humble acknow- 
ledgments unto God, for his merciful preservation. 
The world, comparatively speaking, seemed now to 
be near an end with me ; and it was as if a total 
eclipse w r as drawing on; every scene and object looked 
gloomy ; and whichever way I turned my eye, an 
angry God appeared. There was no shelter for me — 
nothing now to defend myself with — no way of 
escaping — and nature must yield. 

In a little time the trial of my obedience came 
again ; and at that moment the enemy of my soul 
suggested, that if I got up I should not be able to 
stand ; but, thanks to the Almighty, I was strength- 
ened to try, and found him a liar. The expression 
of a few words produced a blessed change. There 
seemed now a new heaven and a new earth ; old 
things passed away, and all things belonging to my 
state, became new ; no more sense of guilt for past 
disobedience remained ; but new embraces and new 
covenants filled up that joyful day. Yet I looked 
forward with anxiety to another meeting day ; and 
though I formerly thought meetings did not come 
fast enough, yet now they seemed to come too soon. 
In two or three of them, I sat under a degree of 
slavish fear ; yet truly desired to keep my integrity 
and obedience. At length a second trial came; I 
was moved to kneel down ; and while I viewed the 



168 AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONVINCEMENT, &C. 

place, my soul secretly breathed thus before the Lord, 
" Here is the place of my execution ;" and seeing the 
boss, " This is the block whereon I must yield up the 
pride of nature, for a testimony of my obedience; 
remember me, Lord ! and the conflicts that I 
undergo to serve thee. Accept, Lord ! the sacrifice/' 
I then kneeled down ; and when I arose, this came 
into my mind — " the life that I must now live, must 
be by faith in Jesus Christ/' 

Persevering in obedience, it wrought unspeakable 
satisfaction, and brought my soul, by degrees, out of 
the place of thraldom and bondage. Thus, by the 
goodness of God, were the strong holds of sin and 
Satan brought down, and the joy of my salvation 
was restored. Meeting-times and days were pleasant 
again, whilst my soul worshipped the living God, as 
in the house of prayer. 

Whilst I stand as on the bank of deliverance, re- 
sounding hosanna in the highest, having the harp of 
thanksgiving put into my hands, my song shall be of 
mercies and of judgments, through which my soul 
has been so far redeemed ; and of the victory of the 
Lamb, by whose right hand and everlasting arm, 
my soul's enemies have been driven back, scattered, 
and put to flight. 

Now, what have I to render to my God for this 
most glorious work, the salvation of my soul, but the 
humble acknowledgments of one of the most un- 
worthy and vile of sinners ; who, by his most gracious 
condescendings, is enabled and encouraged to ascribe 
unto him honour, adoration, dominion and renown, 
with praises and thanksgiving, as due to his eternal 
love, for evermore. 



OF MARGARET LUCAS. 169 

Upon perusal of the same, 
My soul's enliven' d with a flame 
Of holy zeal, that I may know 
The hand of God in all I do. 
Oh, that I may therein confide, 
And by the righteous Judge be tried ! 
This is of my desire the scope, 
That of my love, my faith, and hope, 
I may not be asham'd ; but have 
A heritance beyond the grave : 
Which to enjoy, Lord, grant that I 
In fear may live, and favour die ; 
And that my soul may on the wing 
Of hallelujah meet our King. 



MEMOIRS 



FREDERICK SMITH, 



WHO DIED AT CROYDON, IN SURREY, 



THE 22ND OF THE FOURTH MONTH, 1823. 



WHAT THINGS WERE GAIN TO ME, THOSE I COUNTED LOSS FOR 
CHRIST. PHILIPPIANS III. 7. 



INTRODUCTION, 



The following Memoirs are extracted from manu- 
scripts found in Frederick Smith's hand-writing, 
after his decease. 

They were printed in The Friend, (a Monthly 
Journal,) in the year 1845 : but as they are con- 
sidered to be of too interesting and instructive a 
character to be restricted to the columns of a perio- 
dical publication, it has been concluded to reprint 
them in the present more permanent form. 

The power of divine grace is eminently displayed 
in the conversion of such as have been grievously 
entangled in the snares of folly and vice ; and their 
deliverance is calculated to encourage those who are 
concerned in christian love to deal with transgressors, 
to persevere in their endeavours to reclaim, with a 
hopeful mind ; it also tends in a peculiar manner, to 
excite feelings of grateful admiration towards that 
compassionate Saviour, who is " the Healer of the 
breach — the Restorer of paths to dwell in." 

The case of Frederick Smith presents a remarkable 
instance of the efficacy of this renovating power; not 
only as it enabled him successfully to contend against 
his many evil propensities, but also as it conducted 



174 INTRODUCTION. 

him through many singular trials and difficulties, to 
a settlement in the truth. Of this he appears to have 
been himself deeply sensible; and under the humbling 
conviction that he had been "forgiven much/' he 
manifested by his zealous endeavours to promote the 
cause of truth and righteousness, that he "loved 
much." 

His two " Letters," which conclude this little com- 
pilation, have passed through three editions as tracts ; 
yet as it is probable that the present volume may 
come into the hands of many who have not met with 
them before, and as they are well calculated to pro- 
mote that greatly important object — the best welfare 
of the rising generation, they are now appended to 
the Memoirs. 

It is to be regretted that Frederick Smith did not 
continue his auto-biography later than about the 
year 1800 ; for although his latter years may not 
have furnished incidents so remarkable as those which 
occurred in the earlier part of his life, yet doubtless 
the Memoirs might have been continued instruc- 
tively, as regards his further religious experience and 
service. 

T. C. 



Kingston, Fourth Month, 1848. 



MEMOIRS 



FREDERICK SMITH, 



I was born in London, the 28th of the Sixth Month, 
1757 ; and before I was Rye years of age, was put to a 
boarding-school. I was naturally of a lively dispo- 
sition, and very early susceptible of evil impressions ; 
so much so, that I have frequently looked back with 
admiration to observe how soon the enemy makes his 
inroads. In general, the morals of children are not 
so much attended to as is requisite, in seminaries of 
this kind, and I very early contracted vicious habits 
from the example of the other boys, which every day 
ripened. Could I have seen myself, or have been 
seen as I really was, the increasing deformity of my 
mind would doubtless have discovered me to be a little 
monster of iniquity. Before I was nine years old, 
there was scarcely an evil incident to children of that 
age, with which I was not acquainted, and which I 
had not a hankering after ; though I believe I some- 
times had some serious thoughts, but they were so 
transient, that I hardly recollect them. 

When I was about thirteen and a half years of age, I 
was taken from school, and sent to London to occupy a 
situation under Government, in the General Post Office ; 



176 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

where I found several lads about my own age. A 
near relation was Comptroller, and his brother held 
another situation in the same office : I was under 
their joint care, they having kindly undertaken to 
watch over me. I lived with them and their sisters ; 
but as they had not room in their house to lodge me, 
a respectable lodging was provided for me in the 
neighbourhood. My relations were opulent people, 
and kept a great deal of what is called fashionable 
company ; yet they did all they could to restrain me 
from following those evil propensities I so much de- 
lighted to indulge in ; and they frequently rebuked 
those who visited them, when they made use of oaths, 
or introduced any wicked conversation in my pre- 
sence. They were ignorant of the progress vice had 
made in my heart, and endeavoured to prevent the 
evil seed from being sown. But alas ! the work was 
begun ; and being associated with so many young 
lads, most of whom were under little or no restraint, 
whilst together we gave loose to our various inclina- 
tions ; and I am ready to conclude, that from the 
age of fourteen till I was twenty, there were few who 
exceeded me in vicious conduct. The enemy, during 
these years of my youth, had strong hold of me ; there 
was scarcely an evil gratification which he did not 
allure me with. My relations frequently remonstrated 
tenderly with me, and pointed out the consequences 
of my pursuing vice in the manner I did ; but withal 
were as kind parents to me, endeavouring to heal 
rather than expose my weaknesses. 

During this time for several years I did not enter 
a place of religious worship, except for some wicked 
purpose ; yet I never lost sight of a sort of idea of a 
Supreme Being, and T believe, never went to bed 
without endeavouring to say my prayers ; often even 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 177 

when stupified with liquor, I waked in the course of 
the night or morning, and performed this appre- 
hended duty. This I consider to be a strong proof 
of the beneficial effect of parental care, in endeavour- 
ing early to impress on the minds of youth, day by 
day, their duty to their Creator. This will, in most 
instances, as it did in me, preserve a chain of religious 
though tfulness and reverence to the great First Cause ; 
it may often be as seed sown, which in time may ex- 
pand, and from it the knowledge of divine things 
may be permitted to increase. 

During this career of wickedness, there seemed [but 
little] to hinder my putting what was in my heart into 
execution ; and as to what the world calls pleasure, 
I knew no restraint, the enemy continually finding- 
out fresh food for my sensual appetite. At intervals 
I providentially found a stop, and the language passed 
through me, " Surely it will not be always thus with 
me — I shall at some time or other be caught in the 
trap of the enemy ;" but such impressions lasted only 
for a few minutes. I remember once being so con- 
victed in my mind, of the progress sin was making 
in me, that I flung myself on my bed, burst into 
tears, and cried to the Almighty for help. I was 
made sensible of the deplorable situation I was in, 
and said within myself, " Surely the enemy will over- 
come me at last, and I shall become a shame and dis- 
grace to my family and myself." I strongly felt my 
depravity and weakness, and fervently prayed for 
help and strength to resist evil, and for forgiveness 
for my past wicked conduct. But this impression did 
not last a great while ; I soon returned to my evil 
courses. 

Owing to the kindness of my relations, at whose 
expense I lived, the greater part of my salary was 

N 



178 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK. SMITH. 

given me for pocket-money ; so that I never troubled 
my parents for money, and they were ignorant how 
I went on. When I visited them in the country, on 
leaving them they used to give me very wholesome 
advice ; and by their affectionate solicitude they so 
wrought upon me, as to make me resolve in my own 
mind, to be more circumspect in my conduct, and to 
leave those companions to whom I was as injurious as 
they were to me. A few days after my return to 
London, all these tender impressions would be oblite- 
rated, and I returned with redoubled vigour to an 
abandoned life. 

Having received a fashionable education, and been 
instructed in all the accomplishments which, in the 
view of the world, constitute the gentleman, such 
as dancing, fencing, &c, I was equal to most in 
superficial knowledge, and was introduced into 
much fashionable company. I frequented balls, the 
theatres, musical entertainments, and other equally 
unprofitable amusements, till my twenty-first year ; 
when, without the consent or knowledge of my 
friends, I married. 

In consequence of this rash act, I had now to 
struggle with some difficulties ; for so far from having 
made provision for a step of this sort, I had, during 
the last year or two, been so extravagant as to con- 
tract debts, which, though not to a great amount, 
were the occasion of considerable embarrassment. 
Some heavy family afflictions, which occurred at this 
period, brought me to a degree of recollection, and 
this was much assisted by the prudent demeanour of 
my wife, who although she had consented to our 
marrying clandestinely, yet carried herself so circum- 
spectly as completely to wean me from all my disso- 
lute companions; and thus, through her means, under 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 179 

Providence, I was mercifully rescued from apparent 
certain ruin. Though most of our friends were dis- 
concerted at the step we had taken, yet in a little 
time they became reconciled, and kindly assisted to 
increase my outward means : and as we were con- 
tented in our humble situation, and satisfied to live 
very frugally, also happy in each other, we were, as 
to outward matters, comfortable beyond our expec- 
tation. 

About the year 1780, I had, at times, some serious 
impressions, and seemed to want something which 
outward enjoyments could not afford. Tor some time 
I attended the national worship ; but not being satis- 
fied, I frequented the meetings of Methodists and 
other dissenters : and though I apprehended these 
were more zealous and sincere than the generality of 
those of the church of England, yet my mind was so 
conscious of the deep wound which sin and corruption 
had made, that 1 was persuaded no superficial at- 
tempts could heal it \ and I had a prospect of some- 
thing beyond all that I had yet seen or heard, though 
I could not then describe the whole of my feelings, 
except as they were brought into action. I was still 
a strange jumble of inconsistency; for some things 
of a gross nature remained with me. 

In the year 1782, 1 was subpoenaed by the Post 
Office to give evidence at the Old Bailey, against a 
man for robbing the mail ; and during the time I 
was in waiting, I could not but take notice of the 
poor man's countenance, which seemed to exhibit a 
picture of distress. In an instant, as it were, my 
mind was filled with a variety of reflections on the 
nature of the crime. Surely, thought I, if [as respects 
myself] retributive justice were to take place, I should 
be placed where the criminal now stands. He perhaps 

n 2 



180 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

has committed this crime through necessity ; probably 
he has not had the advantage of a good education, 
kind advisers, or any to instruct him in that which 
is good ; whilst I have been cared for from my early 
youth : my parents have often warned me to refuse 
the evil and choose the good ; they have given me a 
good education, and I have had many advantages 
denied to others ; yet such is the depravity of my 
heart, that for years I have been leading a life of con- 
tinued dissipation and folly. In thus viewing myself 
as compared with the prisoner at the bar, I was so 
struck with abhorrence of myself, and the sight of 
the dreadful precipice on which I had been standing, 
that I shed abundance of tears. A circumstance 
occurred during the trial, which excited in me an 
additional degree of thoughtfulness. One of the wit- 
nesses gave evidence which, though of no great im- 
portance, was not, in point of fact, correct ; and had 
I been called upon, I should have been obliged to 
contradict him. This circumstance led me to con- 
sider the nature of an oath ; that it was a solemn 
appeal to the Almighty that the matter then about 
to be asserted was the truth; that under such circum- 
stances, (especially when the life of man is concerned,) 
an oath appeared to me of so much importance, 
as to make it highly improper to use one without a 
strong conviction of its solemnity. In fact, I began 
to doubt whether the taking of an oath is, under the 
christian dispensation, justifiable ; for though but 
little versed in the Scriptures, 1 recollected that Jesus 
Christ had said, " Swear not at all." I was thus 
brought into a most trying situation, under the feel- 
ing of which, I earnestly supplicated the Almighty 
that I might be excused from giving evidence in this 
case ; and in great condescension and pity to my 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 181 

secret cries, he heard me, and I was not called upon. 
Under a deep sense of my own unworthiness and the 
goodness of my Heavenly Father, I resolved, with his 
assistance, to follow him wherever he should lead me. 
I left the court full of joy and gratitude, and in my 
feeble way, endeavoured to render the praise where 
it was due. Although thus seriously impressed on 
the subject of swearing, it is remarkable, that the 
impression had little or no effect in turning me from 
the foolish and wicked practice I was in, of profane 
swearing, and taking the great and holy name of God 
in vaim 

About this time I was brought to a serious recol- 
lection of the many gracious visitations of the Al- 
mighty to my poor, wicked soul, and particularly his 
answer to my prayers; not only in the instance before 
related, but also in two others, during the dangerous 
illness of my dear wife, when I had earnestly and 
with many tears besought him to relieve her pain, 
which was very great, and continued for many hours, 
and it immediately ceased. I also began more plainly 
to see the natural proneness there was in me to evil, 
(in common, I imagine, with all the human race ;) 
this I could trace back in myself to a very early age, 
and could recollect some instances of sinfulness and 
depravity which even then filled me with shame. 
Thus was I introduced to a view of the degraded and 
fallen state of man by nature ; and feeling my in- 
ability of myself to overcome my evil passions and 
inclinations, I was led inwardly and fervently to im- 
plore divine help and instruction. Frequently while 
walking in the streets I have lamented that the 
churches (so called) were not opened, as in the coun- 
tries where the Roman Catholic religion prevails, that 
I might pour out my soul before the Lord, and praise 



182 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

him for the love which he had begotten in my soul ; 
being ignorant that he does not (exclusively) " dwell 
in temples made with hands ;" though I could not 
find the peace I was desirous of obtaining, when I 
attended the common worship in those places ; which 
appeared to me extraordinary. 

I had been in this seeking state for some time, 
when I became acquainted with a person belonging 
to the Society of Friends, who lived near us, at 
Walworth ; whose company seemed very different to 
what I had been used to. A few months previously, 
the Quakers being mentioned in the course of con- 
versation, my wife said, if ever she changed her 
religion, it should be to a Quaker ; to which I re- 
plied, that the Quakers were a set of fools, and had 
no religion in them. But now I was of a different 
mind ; and I requested the Friend above alluded to, 
to lend me some book relating to his principles, 
which at first he refused. Afterwards, with some 
reluctance, he lent me Barclay 's Apology, cautioning 
me at the same time against too much earnestness in 
the perusal, and setting down as truths the senti- 
ments of the author, till I had sufficiently weighed 
them in my own mind ; adding that he believed with 
Peter, "that God is no respecter of persons," but that 
those of all religious denominations "who fear him and 
work righteousness, are accepted of him." I have often 
looked with much satisfaction at this conduct of the 
Friend, in not laying hands suddenly on me, and con- 
sidered it a proof of his prudence and kindness ; and 
indeed the kind, parental care and solicitude for my 
spiritual welfare, manifested by himself and his wife, 
though I was not within the pale of their religious 
belief, instanced such a liberal, tolerant spirit, and 
freedom from bigotry, as convinced me that Friends 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 183 

were got far beyond most others in the substantial 
part of religion. I read the book with much atten- 
tion, and was surprised to find that the fundamental 
part so exactly corresponded with the idea I had 
formed of the union that subsists between God and his 
creatures. I was also much instructed many ways, 
especially respecting the meaning of the words Holy 
Ghost, of which I had before been totally ignorant, as, 
I have reason to fear, is the case with thousands, who 
call themselves Christians : I could have said, as some 
did to Paul, " We have not so much as heard whether 
there be any Holy Ghost." 

One day, whilst I was reading Barclay's Apology, 
I told my wife I believed I should turn Quaker, the 
book I was then reading having opened my under- 
standing respecting religion, more than any book I 
had ever read ; and that it was withal so simple, and 
corresponded so exactly with the Scriptures, that it 
appeared to me to be the very truth, — or something 
to that purpose. She appeared to be much distressed 
at my expressing myself thus ; and from that time, 
did all in her power to divert me from my purpose. 
This I was much surprised at, as I had buoyed 
myself up with the hope that she would as gladly 
receive the truth as myself; ignorantly supposing 
that it was only for want of the knowledge of a 
better way, that people remained in the form of god- 
liness, without appearing to know any thing of the 
power. 

I had now found the pearl of great price. My 
wife tried many ways to prevail with me to alter my 
purpose ; and at last with many tears entreated me 
to desist, telling me that her health was much im- 
paired by her uneasiness of mind ; (which I have 
reason to believe was really the case ;) at the same 



184 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

time pointing out to me the danger of our circum- 
stances being materially injured by my losing my 
situation in the Post Office, and the distressing pros- 
pect of our becoming estranged from each other, and 
our children divided, by my persisting in the inten- 
tion of belonging to a different persuasion of religion 
from herself. I was at this time in the practice of 
attending the meetings of Friends ; but these argu- 
ments, together with the love I bore to my dear wife, 
induced me to promise her I would not attend them 
any more. I kept my word for a week or two, and 
for a while absented myself from the Friend's house 
who had been so kind to me. But I had no peace 
herein ; for having found the pearl of great price, I 
soon perceived it would be necessary to sell all that I 
had, if ever I meant to purchase so choice a treasure. 
In a short time I secretly called on my friends as 
before, and borrowed John Bichardsorfs Journal, 
which was the first book of the kind I ever read ; 
and I was surprised to find there were any persons of 
so late date who approached so nearly to the cha- 
racter of the saints of old ; not being aware at that 
time, of the universal efficacy of redeeming love, and 
that this principle will, in all ages, produce the same 
effects. At this discovery I was much humbled 
as well as encouraged : and I now determined that 
nothing should hinder me from pursuing whatever 
I apprehended to be the mind and will of God. My 
wife soon became acquainted with my determination, 
which was cause of much unpleasant variance be- 
tween us : her aversion to the change induced her to 
oppose me in every way she could ; and I, as yet 
unmortified and naturally hasty, was impatient of 
contradiction ; so that we knew very little conde- 
scension on either side. 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 185 

I was now called upon to give some proof of my 
love to Him who was thus graciously visiting me. I 
was subpoenaed to give evidence in one of the courts 
of Westminster, respecting a person's hand-writing, 
to which I had been a witness. This brought me 
into a great strait ; for I felt that I dared not take 
an oath ; and my refusal, which could not be kept 
secret, I apprehended would endanger the loss of my 
situation. I called on my kind friend, to advise 
with him. He saw my difficulty, and I believe, felt 
for me in my distressed condition : but it seemed out 
of his power to assist me. He took me, however, to 
another Friend, an elder, who, he said, had a good 
deal of knowledge in matters of this sort ; but alas ! 
it was to little purpose; and I was taught that, in cases 
of difficulty, it is not to man we must look for help. 
I then waited on the attorney, told him the difficulty 
I was under, and endeavoured to prevail on him to 
get some other person in my stead. But he could 
afford me no relief, except that he asked me if I could 
take the Quaker's affirmation. I told him I did not 
know what it was ; but when he showed it to me, I 
felt no objection. He therefore promised to prepare 
the way for me in the court, that I might have as 
little trouble as possible. During the time I had to 
wait in and about the court before I was called, 
which was about eight hours, I was exceedingly dis- 
tressed in my mind. On being called, I informed 
the court I could not take an oath, and the affirma- 
tion was immediately offered to me. I instantly felt 
such a flow of peace and comfort to my poor, tried 
mind, as I had never experienced before ; and I 
seemed so elevated, that everything about me ap- 
peared different from what it had before : it seemed 
as though I saw a new heaven and a new earth, that 



186 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 



all things had become new, and all things of God : 
and I returned home joyful, and strengthened with 
the enriching balm of heavenly love in my bosom. 

Although this event terminated so favourably, 
yet it seemed probable, that in consequence of my 
objection to taking an oath, I should, at some future 
time, lose my situation under government. This was 
a continual exercise to me ; and it seemed desirable 
that I should be prepared for such an occurrence : 
and having an opportunity of laying out my property 
in merchandize, without much consideration, I em- 
braced it. This step laid the foundation of much 
future difficulty. At the earnest request of my wife, 
I also engaged in partnership with a near relation of 
hers ; which I was induced to do, principally from 
a desire to convince her that I was willing to do all 
in my power to make her comfortable. This person 
had been imprudent, and had become involved in his 
affairs ; but as I was informed it was not to a great 
amount, and my income was handsome, I hoped to 
be able by this means to extricate him from his diffi- 
culties, as well as by attention to business, to do 
something for myself. 

I had not entered into this engagement many 
weeks, before what I had anticipated [relative to 
my objection to take an oath] took place. I was 
again subpoenaed to give evidence against a man 
who had robbed the mail. In this case the affirma- 
tion would be of no avail ; and I very soon learned, 
that if I refused to take the oath, I should most 
probably lose my place. My distress was now very 
great; for I had discovered that my partner's affairs 
were in a worse state than I had before understood. 
I had become much encumbered ; and having but 
little knowledge of trade, I was soon plunged into 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 187 

great difficulties. Thus I had not only the prospect 
of losing my situation, but with it my only means of 
extricating myself from my difficulties, and carrying 
on my business ; so that I was now likely to be left 
in a worse situation than if I had not embarked in 
trade. Under these distressing circumstances, the 
first step I took, was to represent my situation to my 
relation, the Comptroller of the Post-office, in order 
that, by being thus timely apprized of my objection 
to take the oath, they might have opportunity of 
doing what they conceived to be right, towards pro- 
moting the course of justice in the affair \ and I 
requested that he would inform the Postmasters- 
general. 

The Comptroller and his brother were greatly 
affected ; they considered me as their child, having 
brought me up from my youth, and treated me with 
parental affection. I was rapidly getting forward 
in the situation I held ; and to see my fair prospects 
thus blasted, and that I was obstinately bent, not 
only on my own ruin, but also that of my family, 
was a great disappointment to them, and grieved 
them much. They tried to persuade me to alter my 
resolution, but in vain ; and the Comptroller reluc- 
tantly complied with my request. The kindness of 
my relations at this time, was more than I could well 
bear, and was a greater trial to me, than all the 
threats and unkindness of my superiors in office. I 
was interrogated by the Secretary and Solicitor, and 
threatened by them, that if I did not comply, I 
should be imprisoned. By order of the board, I 
attended at the Post-office, to give my reasons to the 
Postmasters-general, the Earl of Tankerville and 
Lord Carteret. I was treated with much unbecoming 
rudeness, and endeavours were used to have me in- 



188 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

stantly dismissed : but the Solicitor informed the 
board that this could not be done till I had been put 
upon my trial, whether I would take the oath or not. 
I was therefore ordered to attend at the assizes at 
Aylesbury on the 8th of the Third Month, 1784. 

Owing to a combination of circumstances of a very 
trjdng nature,* I was at this time very much dis- 
tressed ; and under the pressure of my afflictions, I 
wrote the following letter to [my friend at Wal- 
worth] : — 

Hay-market, February 10th, 1784. 
Dear Friend, 
I think I never, in the whole course of my life, 
sat down to write when my spirits were in so un- 
happy a state. We may boast, and really imagine 
ourselves capable of enduring every possible misery ; 
but our minds are, in general, too susceptible of 
buoyant impressions, and till experience shows our 
weakness herein, we bid defiance to the mutability of 
human life. Whilst meeting the casual accidents 
which attend mankind, we are too apt to lose sight of 
the intention of Providence, in thus reminding us 
that our dependence ought to be solely on God. 
Such, I fear, has been my case ; for, had I made 
proper use of the many kind admonitions and gentle 
reproofs with which I have been favoured, I should 
not now be left to the agonizing tortures which I too 
sensibly feel. The quick progress of my misfortunes, 
and the time of their commencement, would at most 
tempt me to doubt whether I am acting right, did 

* Among these was an accident my little girl had met with : 
the nursemaid carelessly suffered her to fall off the bed, which 
occasioned the formation of an abscess inwardly, and a consequent 
gradual decay ; so that she became reduced, to all appearance, to 
the last stage of a consumption. • 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 189 

not the assurance in my breast bring that matter to 
a certainty. My little girl came home to us this 
day, very ill with the measles, which, added to the 
other complaints, occasioned by the distressing acci- 
dent she met with, gives us reason to fear her dissolu- 
tion will be rapid ; and yet I cannot but hope, if she 
can but combat this last, she will get the better of 
her other disorders. A matter of some consequence 
to my temporal affairs has occurred, which, I believe, 
must bring my affairs to a crisis. Some time since, 
the Liverpool bag of letters was missing, and it hap- 
pened I was the only person in the office on the day 
it should have arrived, whose business it was to take 
particular notice of the affair. A man is now in cus- 
tody for the robbery, and I am ordered to attend as a 
principal witness on his trial. 

You see how I am situated ; and though I thought 
myself before sufficiently encumbered with misfor- 
tunes, it is my lot, I fear, to have many more to 
encounter. ! the world, this miserable world ! it 
is on that my heart has been set ; for were I pure and 
upright in the sentiments I profess, I should doubt- 
less be happy in this opportunity of a voluntary 
sacrifice. Look at my situation my dear friends ; — 
my little all ventured to America and no prospect of 
a return ; — the adventure with my partner likely to 
prove as unfortunate j — a child dying ; — and my other 
means likely to be torn from me, because I will not 
prove treacherous to my God. But above all, the dis- 
traction of my family engrosses my attention. To 
them, all my actions appear as folly and madness ; 
nor can all the arguments I make use of convince 
them to the contrary, considering as they do, that my 
misfortunes arise from a determination to pursue what 
will eventually terminate in my ruin, but which I 



190 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

fallaciously think will lead to happiness ; and that 
since heretofore the Almighty had blessed me with 
abundance, when my conduct was in every respect 
different, it proved that he was perfectly satisfied with 
me ; that consequently, the course I am pursuing is 
sinful, and that these are just judgments for the 
wrong steps I have taken. It is impossible for one 
individual to judge of the inward state of another's 
heart, nor how far there may be a necessity for an 
alteration in his conduct. At present I am wholly at 
a loss how to act, with regard to my affair with my 
partner. I undertook it on the presumption of my 
income at the office assisting towards discharging the 
debt ; but that income, I fear, is no more. To God 
alone I submit myself, and he alone can relieve my 
distress ; nor have I a doubt, notwithstanding the 
unfavourable appearance of things, that I shall yet 
meet every comfort from him. If you can spare time 
to write me a few lines, I shall take it as a favour. I 
would call on you, but think it would give uneasiness 
at home. With kindest love to you and yours, I re- 
main your sincere friend, 

Frederick Smith. 

To James Haddocks, Walworth. 

In reply to the foregoing, I received the following 
truly acceptable letter : — 

" Walworth, Second Month 12th, 1784. 
" Dear Friend, 
" Thy very affecting letter of the 10th instant is 
received. The multiplicity and weight of thy present 
afflicting trials may well affect thy spirits : we are 
struck with awful feelings at thy manner of express- 
ing thy sufferings, and pray that He who permits 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 191 

them, will be pleased to support thee. His will must 
be submitted to in all his dispensations. We receive 
good things, and we ought not to murmur at what 
may appear evil. We hope thou wilt experience 
Divine help. [Our heavenly Father] never forsakes 
those who trust in him ; but if He require all to be 
given up, we must submit and prove ourselves worthy. 
We hope these grievous appearances will disperse, and 
consolation be afforded. Perhaps thy child may be 
restored, — and the American affair turn out more 
favourable than thou at present mayst fear. — The 
Post-office affair is, I confess, a matter of great con- 
sequence, but possibly may not be attended with the 
effect thou naturally dreadest so much. Is there no 
possible relief to be obtained by applying to the Post- 
masters-general, or Secretary, to excuse thy appear- 
ance, either by thy own or some friends' interest with 
them, to prevent the disagreeableness of what will be 
the consequ ence in court '? If I can be of any service 
in any shape in my power, it will be a great pleasure 
to me. The concern in the Haymarket I leave at 
present ; — the frowns of thy relations are not much 
to be feared ; thou art superior [to them]. — I am thy 
sincere friend, 

" James Haddocks." 

Previous to my going to Aylesbury, where the 
assizes were held, my dear child was restored to us, 
which I considered a great favour. The measles 
caused so great a revulsion in her constitution, that 
in a few days after the eruption appeared she began 
to revive ; and in a few weeks she recovered. 

At this time, however, my wife was taken seriously 
ill, occasioned by the distress of her mind in viewing 
the awful prospect before us, and the uneasiness my 



192 MEMOIRS OP FREDERICK SMITH. 

conduct had given her ; which was not to be won- 
dered at, seeing that what I did to procure peace of 
mind to myself, appeared to involve her and our 
young family in ruin. She was so ill on the day I 
left her, that the physician who attended her expressed 
his fears of her recovery. I was however obliged to 
leave her, and I took my farewell of her under much 
affliction, having great cause to fear we should never 
meet again in mutability. This was on a First-day. 
I went to Westminster Meeting in the morning, when 
a Friend asked me if I had been recommended from 
the meeting I came from. I replied that I did not 
understand what he meant ; that I was not a member 
of the Society of Friends, whatever I might hereafter 
be ; that I was then about to set off for the Bucking- 
ham assizes, where, on account of my refusal to take 
an oath, I expected to be deprived of all I possessed 
in this world. The Friend seemed affected, and said 
he had observed me so constantly attend meetings, 
and sit so solidly in them, that he thought I had been 
a member. 

I accompanied the Solicitor to Aylesbury ; he be- 
haved kindly to me, and the company who were col- 
lected there showed me more respect than I had 
expected. A circumstance occurred during my stay, 
which afforded me much instruction. Having been 
at several meals with those who came thither to 
attend the trial, I was thankful in observing more 
decency than is usual in mixed companies, especially 
after dinner and supper. Two persons were present 
who had been members of the Society of Friends, 
but were disowned, one a member of Parliament, the 
other a merchant. The former expressed to me his 
love towards the Society • but I had afterwards good 
reason to doubt his sincerity, at least as it regarded 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 193 

myself. The last evening but one that we were 
together, the Solicitor, who sat at the head of the 
table, desired us to fill our glasses ; but having all 
along felt a particular objection to countenancing 
drinking, I had uniformly refused toasts ; and now 
being urged more than usual, I gave them my reasons 
for refusing. Still, however, the company continued 
to press me ; and to prevent further solicitation I 
filled my glass with water only. This answered their 
purpose ; and a scene of as great indecency and con- 
fusion followed as I had ever witnessed. A clergy- 
man, who was also a magistrate in the county, was 
more wicked and obscene than the rest ; and to my 
astonishment, I observed the Member of Parliament, 
whom I had considered as my friend, ridiculing the 
distress I was not able to hide. I took my candle 
and went to bed, lamenting that in all probability I 
had been the cause of it ; for had I remained firmly 
attentive to my inward feelings, I might have been 
instrumental in convincing those present of the folly 
of the practices they were in. But it was now too 
late, and all I could do was to learn experience from 
the things I had suffered. It was a lesson that I 
have often recurred to, when my resolution has been 
tottering under trials of faith and obedience. In the 
morning I found out some Friends in the town, who 
were kind to me ; and I became acquainted with a 
young man named John Grant, who was also sub- 
poenaed. In his company I spent the remainder of 
the time I had to stay at Aylesbury less unpleasantly 
than I otherwise should have done ; and we were 
afterwards much united in religious fellowship. 

And now the time came for me to manifest my love 
to Him who had allured me out of Egypt into the 
wilderness — who had spoken peace to my guilty soul, 

o 



194 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

and had forgiven my many transgressions and back- 
slidings. Under a sense of these mercies, I appeared 
in court ; and when I was called, I told the judge, 
without hesitation, that I could not take an oath ; 
which having done, my heart seemed to overflow with 
sweet peace, and I was strengthened to bear the 
scurrility and the ill-natured remarks of a counsellor, 
who had no doubt been hired for the purpose of 
making me appear odious to those present, and to 
give the Postmasters-general a plea for displacing me. 
He, however, so far overshot himself, that several of 
the counsel rose as one man, and one on behalf of the 
rest pleaded my cause, and requested that the counsel 
who had treated me so roughly might be desired to 
desist j observing, that I had a right to refuse taking 
the oath if I chose it ; which the other attempting 
to reply to, the judge, with seeming displeasure, 
told him to sit down, adding, that it was the busi- 
ness of the Postmasters-general and not of the 
court, to take cognizance of the conduct of their 
officers. He then kindly asked me if I chose to take 
the oath ; which I refusing to do, he told me I might 
leave the court if I pleased, as they had nothing 
further to say to me. I immediately hastened home, 
where I found my wife much better ; and I had the 
abundant satisfaction to learn from her, that during 
my absence, at the time she appeared in the greatest 
danger, her mind was so filled with comfort and 
Divine love, that she longed to be dissolved ; and she 
believed that had she gone then, it would have been 
well with her. This account filled my poor heart 
with gratitude to the Lord, for thus remembering me 
in the midst of my deep probations ; for surely no 
one had greater reason to be humbled in the dust 
than myself, an unworthy sinner. 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 195 

Having been thus mercifully helped through so 
many difficulties, I experienced a degree of strength 
to encounter fresh ones. 1 was now in expectation 
of losing my place in the Post Office, the justice 
of which I could hardly reconcile, seeing that my 
refusal to comply with the requisition of my em- 
ployers was well known to arise from my adherence 
to integrity of principle, and not from a desire to 
evade any part of my duty as a servant to the public. 
I thought myself justified in using endeavours to 
retain my situation on account of my family ; for 
though I had not lost all my property, by far the 
greater part of what I had accumulated was now 
gone : and in case of my dismissal I apprehended I 
should be entitled to some compensation for past 
services, my youth having been spent in the laborious 
duties of my employment. I therefore used what 
interest I could with the Postmasters-general, through 
the medium of my kind friend and relative the Comp- 
troller. This proving ineffectual, I thought it right 
to address the Secretary, that he might use his in- 
terest with them. I accordingly sent him the follow- 
ing letter : — 

General Post Office, March 17th, 1784. 
Sir, 
It is with much regret I find myself under the 
necessity of giving you trouble; but the circumstance 
of my having been obliged to attend the Assizes at 
Aylesbury, and there practically to avow those senti- 
ments which I conscientiously believe to be perfectly 
consistent with the true principles of Christianity, 
though not altogether agreeable to the opinion of 
those who profess the established religion of this 
kingdom, has rendered it almost impossible for me to 

o 2 



196 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

avoid it. It must be confessed, I am in a very 
disagreeable predicament on account of my family, 
which urges me to request your kind interference 
with the Postmasters-general on my behalf. I am 
well aware of the necessity there is for every pre- 
caution to prevent abuses in the management of the 
business of the Post Office ; and the present unfortu- 
nate affair may have suggested to you a new species of 
fraud, which might hereafter be practised by parties 
whose duty it might be to bring others to justice, by 
pretending to be of the Society of Quakers. It must 
be allowed that such a surmise may not be without 
foundation ; but if the character of the party, under 
circumstances of this kind, were considered, the exe- 
cution of such a fraudulent intention might be pre- 
vented. I have been more than thirteen years (half 
my life) in the Post Office, the duties of which, you 
are sensible, are as laborious as those of any office 
under Government, if not more so ; and I believe I 
can add, without deviating from the truth, that I 
have attended my appointment with fidelity and 
honesty ; for a confirmation of which I appeal to my 
brethren in the Office. The earnest desire I had to 
do my duty to God as well as to man, led me to 
search minutely into religion ; and my endeavours 
strictly to observe that duty will not, I trust, be the 
means of criminating me. My refusal to take an 
oath I really believe, is built on a sure and solid 
foundation. I have therefore to entreat you to re- 
present my case as it really is, to the Postmasters- 
general : and as matters of conscience have ever been 
considered by true Christians to be of a very delicate 
and tender nature, I cannot but hope they will look 
kindly rather than harshly on my conduct. The 
duty I at present fulfil, has very little connexion with 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 197 

any other part of the Office ; consequently I shall 
not be subject to the inconvenience I have lately 
experienced ; and if I may be indulged by being 
allowed Jo remain in this employ, I shall think 
myself amply remunerated, and will give up the 
prospect of future advancement. If, however, the 
Postmasters-general are not willing to grant me this 
favour, I have only to beg that, as there have been 
precedents of persons resigning and receiving an 
annual stipend from the Office, they will be pleased 
to grant me the like indulgence. I am, with respect, 
your obliged friend, 

Frederick Smith. 

In a few days I was ordered to attend the Board ; 
and though the Postmasters-general appeared more 
mild than they had done, yet I met with no success 
from my application. I was told I should not be 
immediately dismissed, as I had represented how I 
was circumstanced in other matters, but that I should 
have liberty to attend the Office as usual for two or 
three weeks, till I could turn myself about. But I 
was much surprised and disappointed the next morn- 
ing, when on entering the Office, I was told that it 
was the express order of the Postmasters-general that 
I should not do any more duty ; and I was refused 
even the indulgence of going to my drawer. This 
appeared the hardest of all my trials. It was un- 
expected ; and I could not but sit down in my room 
and weep aloud. I was informed that orders were 
also given to insist upon every person in the Post 
Office taking the sacrament, so called; at which I 
was not surprised ; for in my hearing, one of the 
Postmasters-general in a violent passion, and swear- 
ing vehemently, asked if there were any more men 



198 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

who thought as I did ; declaring if there were, they 
should all turn out. Endeavours were used to make 
me appear criminal and worthy the treatment I re- 
ceived • and to give the greater appearance of justice 
to their proceedings, they reported that the judge at 
the Assizes had said in open court, that I was a man 
very unfit for any employment in the Post Office, 
and that he intended informing the Postmasters- 
general as much ; which was altogether untrue, 
nothing of the sort having transpired ; but on the 
contrary, the judge behaved with much tenderness 
and feeling towards me. 

Seeing how involved in difficulties we were, my 
opening this matter to my wife was a severe trial to 
me ; and none but the Almighty could conceive the 
inward distress I suffered on being brought into this 
humiliating situation. I had now scarcely a friend 
to whom I could open my mind ; and my father and 
other relations treated me with coldness, especially 
the former, who declared he would never do any thing 
for me. None offered me any assistance, and I dared 
not open my situation to Friends, lest they should 
suppose I courted the Society for gain. My wife too, 
(who was violently opposed to Friends,) perhaps with 
a view of forcing me to return to my former way of 
thinking, appeared uncommonly bitter against me ; 
so much so, that in the hurry of her resentment she 
left the house, with the determination, as she said, 
never to return, and took the children with her. I 
entreated her before she left, not to prosecute her in- 
tention ; nor did I expect she would, till she put it 
in execution. She was at a relative's at Richmond for 
some time ; and while she was there I wrote to her 
in as moving a manner as I was capable, to request 
her to return. She came afterwards to get clothes 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 199 

for herself and the children, when I renewed my en- 
treaties with many tears, but in vain. In this season 
of distress, the love of Grod through Christ was my 
only comfort, and in this I felt experimentally that 
I was not forsaken by Him for whom I suffered such 
severe trials and conflicts. Under the pressure of 
them I wrote as follows : — " My brethren are put 
far from me, and mine acquaintance are verily 
estranged from me. My kinsfolk have failed, and 
my familiar friends have forgotten me. They that 
dwell in mine house count me for a stranger ; I am 
an alien in their sight. My breath is strange to my 
wife, though I entreated for the children's sake of 
mine own body. All my friends abhorred me ; and 
they whom I loved are turned against me. Lover 
and friend hast thou put far from me, and mine ac- 
quaintance into darkness. But I know that my 
Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter 
day upon the earth." 

After an absence of several weeks my wife returned 
to me ; and I can truly say, I received her joyfully. 
During the time of these deep probations, I was also 
under great discouragement respecting my outward 
affairs. When I had been in business about a year, 
on making up my accounts I found my debts ex- 
ceeded my property by upwards of £1000 ; and the 
next year there appeared but little improvement; 
for in these two years my business did not clear my 
expenses by about £300 a year. 

In the beginning of the year 1785, I was kindly 
noticed by a few Friends, whose society I very much 
enjoyed, home being generally very unpleasant to me. 
In the First Month of this year George Dillwyn 
and Samuel Emlen, who were visiting the families 
of Friends of Westminster Meeting, expressed an 



200 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

inclination to sit with me ; and I met them for 
that purpose at George Stacey's, I felt in an un- 
usually disconsolate state, and unable to see any- 
thing but the impurity of my heart. The subject 
of their testimony was to encourage faithfulness in 
little acts of dedication that were required of me ; 
intimating I was not to suppose that, because I had 
suffered for the cause of truth, the work was done ; 
that there was still a great deal to do, and perhaps 
to suffer ; and that it is only by patience and watch- 
fulness, and keeping the eye single to the great 
Master, that we can be safe ; that seeing we are weak 
and insufficient of ourselves to do any thing to His 
glory, we must seek for ability to serve Him with a 
perfect heart and with a willing mind, that by the 
purity of our conduct we may prove ourselves worthy 
of the vocation wherewith we are called. The upright, 
honest dealing of these Friends, was a stimulus to me 
to press through every difficulty and discouragement. 
The adoption of the plain language was a great 
trial to me, and it was a long time before I could 
fully give up to it ; and even after I had accom- 
plished it, and had continued faithful for some weeks, 
my strength failed me, and I nearly gave it up : but 
by attending to the secret reproofs of instruction, 
I was favoured with strength to resume this part of 
my duty ; though I found it much more difficult to 
return, than it was in the first instance to conform to 
the practice. Thus by unwatchfulness, and not at- 
tending to the pointings of duty in what appeared 
little things, I was frequently brought into much dis- 
tress ; but when faithful to the voice of Truth, I was 
at times favoured with great peace and comfort, 
and found I gained strength in the holy warfare. 
Though neither dress nor address at first appeared of 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 201 

much importance to me, yet as I faithfully yielded to 
the teaching influences of Divine grace and truth, I 
was enabled to see the beneficial effects of supporting 
these parts of our testimony. When I first altered 
my dress, the tailor, contrary to my directions, made 
my coat with a cape and cross pockets. The cape I 
had altered, but as the alteration of the pockets 
would have disfigured the coat, I retained them, 
though it cost me considerable uneasiness. By this 
little exercise I was put to the test, whether my 
alteration was from principle, or merely an act of 
conformity to the customs of Friends, which I have 
always thought a matter of no small importance : 
for to get into the fold by any other way than by the 
door, or following any other leader than the true 
Shepherd, I believe is unsafe ; and however desirable 
it may be to conform to the views and practices of 
our brethren, this is not sufficient to build a reli- 
gious scruple upon. 

My natural disposition was volatile and lively ; at 
the same time I was hasty and impatient of contra- 
diction. I scarcely seemed able at times to keep my 
vivacity within due bounds, which was often a great 
trouble to me. I therefore abstained from animal 
food, &c, thinking that by mortifying the body, I 
should be able to conquer this enemy to my peace, as 
well as others by which I was assailed. This volun- 
tary abstinence caused me much distress ; being 
unable to give a substantial reason when I was ques- 
tioned upon the subject by my wife and others. I 
continued in this course for some months, till my 
natural strength was much reduced ; but my animal 
spirits wqre greatly increased, and I thus discovered 
that all human means, not in the Divine economy, 
are insufficient to bring about the work of regenera- 



202 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

tion j nothing short of the light and power of Jesus 
Christ being able to effect this great and important 
work. For many months I had to travel on under 
the pressure of outward discouragements, so much so 
that there was little appearance of my getting for- 
ward in business : though at some times the prospect 
was more cheering than at others. Keen was the 
distress that I suffered, and many the tears that I 
shed. I had also a host of enemies within, whereby 
1 was kept in a state of continued warfare ; fearful 
lest I should not be able to stand my ground, and 
after all my sufferings, bring reproach on the Truth. 

My dear wife was all this time unable to compre- 
hend the meaning of the peculiarity of my conduct, by 
which we had been brought into these circumstances 
of difficulty j and not being reconciled thereto, she 
frequently upbraided me. This was a cause of great 
disquiet to us both ; and it is likely my yielding to 
the natural warmth of my temper, made my own path 
considerably more trying than it would have been, 
had I borne with patience the contradictions I met 
with. I did indeed strive to get the better of this 
evil; and Oh, the distress and agony which I have 
sometimes felt, when under the influence of it ! My 
wife, who formerly was all mildness and meekness, was 
now an altered woman, having become severe, con- 
tentious and vindictive, displeased with every thing I 
did, and indisposed to please me : and thus we were 
at this time completely alienated from each other. 
But alas ! I ought to have shown a greater degree of 
condescension, and to have been more like the Master, 
who when he was reviled, reviled not again. 

On account of my wife's forbidding and distant 
behaviour towards Friends, I seldom had any to call 
on me, which I thought hard. Sometimes, indeed, 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 203 

they pressed through all ; and, as they kept their 
places, their visits generally ended well. It hap- 
pened once that Timothy Bevington and John Bur- 
lingham of Worcester were on business in the neigh- 
bourhood ; and though unacquainted with me, they 
agreed to call on me, and accepted an invitation to 
dinner. After dinner, with much difficulty, on ac- 
count of my wife's objection to stillness, a religious 
opportunity was obtained ; wherein T. B. gave us 
some excellent advice, and at the same time told me 
he had an assurance that if I kept my place, my wife 
would be given to me ; an occurrence I could at that 
time have no prospect of, nor had I faith to be- 
lieve it. 

I had been a constant attender of meetings ; and 
sometimes when I had occasion to go into the city, I 
took the opportunity of attending one of the meet- 
ings there. One day, having business in the city, I 
intended to go to the meeting in White Hart Court. 
In passing along Holborn I saw a poor woman appa- 
rently in great misery and distress, the effects, perhaps, 
of a life of dissipation. I felt an involuntary sym- 
pathy for the poor creature, but passed on. She, 
however, took such hold of me, that my mind became 
agitated, and I was for a time withheld, as it were, 
from going any farther. I accordingly stopped and 
endeavoured to compose my mind, having never felt 
any thing of the sort before. I soon had an evident 
impression to go back, attended with these words, 
" obedience is better than sacrifice/' I continued for 
some time undetermined what to do. Time seemed to 
call for some conclusion, lest I should be too late for 
meeting. I could not, however, give up to go back • 
many weak reasons coming in the way ; I therefore 
proceeded under a full conviction of disobedience. 



204 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

After I had been seated in meeting for some time, 
my mind became tranquil ; and I felt sufficient life 
in me to pray for strength and a willing heart, when- 
ever the Lord might be pleased again to call me into 
service. In the midst of my cogitations, George 
Dillwyn in a singular manner pointed out the conse- 
quences of a neglect of duty when it became clearly 
shown to us, which he said was the case, he believed, 
with a state then present; who, though they had 
known a being led into the wilderness, if a repetition 
of disobedience were to take place, must not be sur- 
prised if they experienced a continuing much longer 
there than the Master ever intended ; and admonished 
those present to beware of this, and press forward to 
the mark, &c. I was much humbled at this testi- 
mony, seeing that I could not hide myself in a corner. 
Surely it is a glorious privilege to be led out of the 
labyrinth of self-will, by the hand of the mighty God 
of Jacob. These circumstances made a deep impres- 
sion on my mind, and I trembled at disobedience. 

About this time I had an extraordinary dream, 
which I could not at first well understand the mean- 
ing of; the natural man could not comprehend it, 
though afterwards I was made sensible that it was of 
no common interpretation. 

I thought I was alone upon an open heath or com- 
mon, where it thundered and lightened very much; 
the atmosphere appeared illuminated with the dread- 
ful flashes that seemed to surround me on all sides ; 
there appeared no way for me to escape. I thought 
every moment, the next flash would destroy me. In 
the midst of my distress I observed that the lightning 
had set fire to a town at some distance from me, and 
as near as I could judge, destroyed about a third 
of it. I now expected my dissolution was near, but 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 205 

I was much surprised and consoled by hearing a 
voice from above, directed to myself to this purpose, 
" Fear not, but be thou faithful, and none of these 
things shall happen unto thee; but unto every town, 
and even village in this kingdom, thus shall it be." 
I soon awoke under an awful sense of the merciful 
preservation I thought I had experienced, and an 
extraordinary dread was upon my mind for some 
time afterwards. At first I was ready to conclude 
that this country would be visited with some dread- 
ful calamity, but afterwards I was led to believe it 
concerned myself alone, and that faithfulness would 
be my preservation under the many trials and diffi- 
culties which seemed to surround me. 

Although I was so much oppressed as above repre- 
sented, yet there were seasons of sweet enjoyment 
permitted me, wherein my cup might be said to run 
over : for days and nights together I have been 
almost lost in the excess of heavenly love, and [at 
times] dared not stir lest it should be removed from 
me. Thus was I led on through various dispensa- 
tions ; during which I could not but admire and 
adore the gracious Hand that was thus mercifully 
conducting me. 

About the year 1786, several things occurred which 
evidenced the care of the Good Shepherd towards me, 
a poor worm. He, in mercy, saw meet to disclose 
himself to me, and by the might of his own power 
manifested that he was able of the stones to raise up 
children unto Abraham, if I did not reject so great 
salvation. I had still great difficulties to struggle 
with, and had none to look to for help but the blessed 
Redeemer ; the Lord alone w r as my support. The 
difficulties we were under produced great humilia- 
tion : the creature of necessity w r as to be reduced : 



206 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

not a stone of the former building was to remain ; 
all was to be razed, that the wise Master-Builder 
might erect his temple in the heart, Jesus Christ 
being the chief-corner-stone. 

[The writer, after .stating that himself and wife 
had in their prosperity enjoyed many outward com- 
forts j that .now in their reduced condition, duty 
and necessity combined to induce them to make 
sacrifices which by some would have been considered 
costly ; and that among other things, a sideboard of 
plate was disposed of, proceeds : — ] To be thus reduced 
was no small trial to flesh and blood, but the plate 
was called for, and it was given up. In our straitened 
circumstances it would have been folly to purchase 
it ; and now possessing comparatively nothing, vanity 
alone could be the inducement for keeping it. 

This year my business increased : on taking stock, 
I found I had just about enough to pay all my 
creditors twenty shillings in the pound. Such being 
the case, I thought I would not again run the hazard 
of causing any person to lose by me, unless with his 
own consent. I therefore, upon mature delibera- 
tion, came to the humiliating conclusion to call my 
principal creditors together, in order to acquaint 
them with the exact state of my affairs, and to offer 
to give up my property to them if they chose to 
accept it ; but that if they were willing to let me go 
on in business, I intended to avail myself of their 
kindness. 

One day while at dinner, pondering this subject in 
my mind, and bewailing the trying circumstances to 
which I was reduced, I was so overcome by my feel- 
ings that I burst into tears, (my family being all 
around me,) and mentally poured out my soul to my 
Heavenly Father. While in this humble situation of 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 207 

mind, a letter, per post, was delivered to me : it was 
from a person of property who had married a relative 
of my wife's, and was to this effect : — 

" Sir : — I have made my will and have left your 

wife £ ; but believing it may be of more use to 

you now, than it may be at my death, you are at 
liberty to draw upon me at sight. I am, Sir, your 
humble servant," &c. 

The person lived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne ; his 
wife was dead. I had never seen him nor corresponded 
with him, and my wife had only seen him when she 
was a child ; so that we could have no expectation of 
any such communication from him. This sum was 
sufficient to enable me to carry on my business without 
risk to my creditors ; and my poor, tried soul was 
bowed in humble gratitude [to my Heavenly Father], 
for having thus manifested his loving-kindness to- 
wards me, and confirmed the everlasting truth, that 
" for the oppression of the poor, for the sighing of the 
needy, he would arise." Surely this was a memorable 
token of his fatherly care over his children. I was 
sensible that there was none in heaven but Him, nor 
in all the earth, that I could depend upon but Him ; 
to Him alone I wished to render all the praise. 

The time now came that Friends began to look 
towards my being received into membership ; and I 
understood afterwards, that some difficulty had arisen, 
on account of my not having applied to the Monthly 
Meeting for admission. This was, however, soon got 
over, as in the course of conversation with some 
Friends, the question was put to me, whether I had 
ever looked towards the Society with a desire to be 
more nearly united to it 1 I very readily answered 
in the affirmative, adding, that I did not feel the 
same anxiety respecting it that I once did, being 



208 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 



willing to wait the Lord's time in this, as well as in 
every other occurrence of my life ; and left it entirely 
to them to mention it to the meeting. I was soon 
after this visited, by appointment of the Monthly 
Meeting, by a committee of. I believe, judicious 
Friends, who were not willing to take things by out- 
ward appearance only ; for I believe- 1 thought quite 
highly enough of myself, and supposed I had made 
considerable progress in religious experience. But 
the first visit convinced me of my error ; and I was 
much humbled under a sense of my own emptiness 
and want of all things. I remained much exercised 
till the Friends had another opportunity with me ; 
when to myself I appeared much darker than before, 
and according to my own feelings, in no situation to 
be received into membership. I was also much de- 
serted, and tried with many close inward conflicts; 
and as the Friends gave me little or no encourage- 
ment, I apprehended I was now entirely lost, being, 
as I thought, shut out from the blessed unity of the 
Spirit, both with the Almighty, and my beloved 
friends. Great was my distress and searching of 
heart at this season of deep humiliation ; here self 
was in no estimation. I often thought the pain and 
exercise I had to pass through was more than I 
could well bear for a continuance, and seriously feared 
the effects of my present trouble. In the midst of 
this close trial, on the Sixth-day previous to the 
Yearly Meeting, I was informed by a Friend that 
the Monthly Meeting had acknowledged me as a 
member, and that I was therefore at liberty to attend 
the Yearly Meeting. I cannot express the joy I felt, 
and the favour I considered it, to be united to that 
body with whom I had so long felt a union ; and 
great were my cries that I might know preservation 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. - 209 

from evil, and not be permitted to bring reproach on 
the ever-blessed Truth. I have often, on looking 
back, had to admire the goodness of the Almighty 
to mv poor soul, in suffering this dispensation, and 
that I was not admitted into the Society in a super- 
ficial manner, nor made to think myself better than 
I was j but that wise and feeling brethren were 
sent to examine and feel for themselves and the 
meeting. 

A circumstance occurred during the Yearly Meet- 
ing, which led me to consider the nature of appoint- 
ments to services in the church, and the manner of 
their being made. The nomination of Friends to 
their rightly allotted services, has appeared to me to 
be a matter of great importance ; and that those who 
nominate should do it under a feeling of its propriety, 
rather than from the apparent qualification or ability 
of the individual, or a partiality for him ; remember- 
ing that He who alone can rightly qualify, often sees 
meet to dispense the gift to the meanest instrument, 
that thereby his name may be more eminently glori- 
fied : and that unless we wait upon him for a right 
influence, his work may be marred in our hands, as I 
fear is often the case, by the officiousness of forward 
and unskilful spirits, who are more earnest to main- 
tain an authority in the church, than to submit to be 
led by Him, whose ways are in the deeps. The hasty 
refusal of Friends to accept appointments, when per- 
haps the nomination has arisen from a weighty im- 
pression as to the fitness of the individual named, 
has appeared of equal importance. Some refuse 
through diffidence ; others, from not having felt any- 
thing towards the service ; and too many from an 
unwillingness to give up their time for the service of 
Truth, the things of this world standing too much in 



210 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

the way. To the diffident I would say, that they 
should recollect, the work, if rightly entered into, is 
not theirs but the Master's, " who putteth forth his 
own, and goeth before them." The same may be said 
to those who have felt nothing towards the service to 
which they are nominated ; and that if they do not 
feel anything against the appointment, it is better to 
accept it, because by going blindfold to the work, 
with their dependence wholly on the Good Shepherd 
for help and guidance, they will probably be enabled 
to do it more to his honour, than if they had a clear 
sight beforehand. As to those who grudge the time 
that the Master's business requires, the little expe- 
rience I have had has shown me, that such as these 
have almost imperceptibly dwindled to nothing, as to 
the substantial part of religion, and have degenerated 
to mere lifeless formalists ; according as it w T as said 
of those who lusted after things that were not con- 
venient for them ; " He gave them their desire, but 
sent leanness into their souls." 

Although my dear wife and myself were not yet so 
united as I could have wished, yet there appeared 
some ground gained. I have already stated that 
Timothy Bevington, in a religious opportunity, spoke 
encouragingly to us. Some months afterwards, on 
meeting him again, he told me he recollected what 
had come before his mind at that time ; and though 
what he had said was not yet realized, he notwith- 
standing had a renewed belief that " my wife would 
be given to me." I had been very cautious at all 
times of saying anything by way of persuasion as to 
my wife's religious movements, except that 1 some- 
times urged her to the attendance of her own place of 
worship. Indeed, I was satisfied that it would answer 
little purpose, unless I could feel myself warranted to 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 211 

press anything on her from the influence of Divine 
love, which I thought I might at some time be 
favoured to feel. Her health was often very indif- 
ferent ; the air of London did not suit her, so that 
we had, for a considerable time, been under the 
necessity of having a lodging out of town, where she 
frequently remained for several days together when 
she was unwell. This was the case near the latter 
end of this year, and I was left in town. One day, 
while serving a customer in the shop, I felt the sweet 
influence of heavenly love in a remarkable degree, 
and at the same time, such a powerful union with my 
dear wife, that I was overcome with the sensation : 
and having dismissed the customer as speedily as I 
could, I went upstairs to give vent to my feelings, 
where I continued the greater part of the day. Under 
this influence I felt an inclination either to speak 
or write to her, on the subject of a nearer religious 
fellowship. I was not, however, in haste to put it 
in practice, but waited till the next day, that I 
might, when my mind became more settled, judge of 
the propriety of such a step. The next day, on sitting- 
down before Him by whom I wished to be rightly 
instructed, I again felt the same sweet impression ; 
when, without hesitation, I wrote a few lines to her, 
expressive of what I felt. I took the letter that even- 
ing, and soon found that the Master had been there 
before me. She read what I had written several times 
over, but said nothing. After a time, I ventured to 
begin the conversation, though in much fear and 
brokenness, and I told her all that I had felt. She 
was muct affected at the relation, and asked me at 
what time of the preceding day it was, that I felt the 
impression I spoke of; I replied, that the clock 
struck eleven as I was going upstairs, on leaving thfe 

p 2 



212 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

shop. She said it was very remarkable, for just at 
that time she felt the same impression towards me, 
which had continued with her ever since, much to 
her comfort and consolation. We now mingled our 
tears of real joy together, under a sense of the gra- 
cious dealings of our Heavenly Father to our poor 
souls ; and we had to admire that our present union 
had not been effected by any human means, but by 
the power of the Lord alone, He having given my wife 
to me. Great, I believe, were our desires that we 
might in no respect know a separation from each 
other, but that we might so walk before Him as to 
experience a continuance of his love and regard. I 
believe we both considered this extraordinary mani- 
festation of Divine love, through which we were so 
sweetly united, as our spiritual marriage ; for what 
we had before known of love, fell far short of that 
which we now felt towards each other — nay, appeared 
as nothing in comparison of it. This, I apprehend, 
is what all ought to feel on entering into this solemn 
engagement. 

My wife was at this time very much indisposed, 
and had to endure a great deal of pain, so that she 
was often ready to cry out from the agony she suf- 
fered j but she was at the same time, under a very 
precious visitation ; for in the midst of her suffering 
she felt such a flow of Divine comfort, as made her 
bodily affliction appear as nothing to her; and, as 
she has frequently told me since, she was at times 
ready to pray for a return of her pains, in the hope of 
being favoured with a return of heavenly love and 
consolation. 

About this time, as she informed me several years 
afterwards, she had a singular dream, which, as it 
conveys instruction, I shall here relate. — 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 213 

She thought that as she and her brother were walk- 
ing together, they came to a large flight of stairs, 
which she ventured to ascend, but left her brother at 
the bottom. When she had reached the top, she saw 
two angels in white raiment, each having a trumpet, 
which they placed to their mouth, and said with loud 
voices, " Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at 
hand/' They then led her forward amidst an innu- 
merable company of angels, where the sweet sensation 
she felt was beyond description. They afterwards 
brought her back again and down the stairs. She 
wished to return with them, but they pointed to two 
roads ; the one on the left hand was a large open and 
beautiful plain, that on the right a rugged and 
narrow path. She was told she had her choice which 
way to go, but if she intended to come thither again, 
it must be by going along the rugged and narrow 
way. They then left her, and she soon afterwards 
awoke. The next First-day, she went to her usual 
place of worship, when the minister took for his text 
the words, " Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at 
hand." This brought her dream afresh to her remem- 
brance, and it seemed to have the effect of making 
her more earnest to know which way it was her duty 
to go. After a time, she found most peace in going 
with me. I left her entirely to herself as to her 
attending Friends' meetings, being satisfied that He 
who had visited our souls in so extraordinary a 
manner, would in the right time, carry on the work 
he had begun in her. In a few weeks after she had 
got better, she gradually left her former place of wor- 
ship,*and we soon had the satisfaction of experiencing 
" the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." It 
was no small alleviation of my troubles to have the 
help of my dear wife ; the union of her spirit was a 



214 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

great comfort to me. She kept her place, I have 
often thought, far beyond myself, and afterwards be- 
came a steady and useful member of the Society of 
Friends. 

My business was now gradually increasing, and I 
had a good hope that I should not continue to suffer 
the severe discipline which I had experienced on 
account of trade ; a prospect appeared of my getting 
out of some of the difficulties I had been struggling 
against. For these and many other blessings, my 
heart was often bowed in reverence to God. My trials 
had the effect of enabling me, from experience, to 
sympathize with the afflicted. With my mind thus 
tenderly exercised on behalf of a near relation, (the 
daughter of an uncle, a clergyman,) with w r hom I had 
formerly been on terms of great friendship, I wrote 
the following letter to her : — 

Haymarhet, Ninth Month Uh, 1786. 

Dear Cousin, 
With that tenderness and sympathy, which I can 
with truth say, I often feel for the afflictions of my 
fellow-creatures, and which at this time I sensibly 
feel for thee, do I now sit down to offer my mite of 
love towards thee. Believe me, the account of thy 
dear husband's decease gave me much heartfelt uneasi- 
ness, well knowing the afflictive dispensation now laid 
upon thee, must cause sensations which cannot be 
easily described. But trials of this kind, my dear 
cousin, we must all submit to ; nay, we must not even 
murmur at them. It is the Lord's will, and who can 
controvert it? Our giving way to grief will in no 
wise answer any good purpose, but may perhaps 
encourage a melancholy which it is our duty to avoid. 
We should endeavour to say in sincerity, " Not my 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 215 

will, but thine be done, Lord I" It has pleased the 
Almighty oftentimes to bring me low ; and I have 
observed, that in seasons of distress, my soul has been 
brought nearer to him ; thus I have been enabled to cry 
mightily unto him, and I have ever found him a pre- 
sent Helper in all my afflictions. Therefore, my dear 
cousin, I would have thee consider that the Lord is 
never nearer than in seasons of trial and deep proba- 
tion. At these times, we feel our souls drawn towards 
him, knowing our own inability to help ourselves, 
with the anxious hope that he will not utterly cast 
us from his presence. Trials and afflictions are some- 
times as needful for the mind, as food for the body. 
I have often thought, yea, I have experienced it, that 
a religious growth, and a true knowledge of God, has 
been more fully known by patience and resignation 
to his blessed will in time of deep suffering. When 
we are thus willingly led, we find him to be the 
Physician of great price, the Healer of our wounds 
and the hope of our salvation. But alas ! there are 
few that can truly say, " a Saviour or I die, a 
Redeemer or I perish !" And what is the reason 1 
We are not willing to undergo the refining operation 
of his hand. " As gold is tried in the fire, so are 
acceptable men in the furnace of affliction." Those 
whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth ; therefore let 
us keep in his love by submission to his will. " Wo 
unto them who have lost patience ! for what will they 
do when the Lord cometh." Happy wilt thou be, 
my dear cousin, if thou look to him alone for help ; 
then he will never desert thee ; but the more thou 
castest thy care on him, the more he will manifest 
himself unto thee. Think not thy present affliction 
is more than thou canst bear. Remember David's 
resignation and faith ; and if thou take his example, 



216 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

thou wilt in thy distress, have to say as he did, " Why 
art thou cast down, my soul ! and why art thou 
disquieted within me ? Hope thou in God, for I shall 
yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance 
and my God." Humble thyself before him, and I 
have not a doubt but that thou wilt yet have occasion 
to rejoice. 

I think I have little more to add, than if I can in 
any respect assist thee, my dear cousin, I shall be 
happy to do so ; therefore do not let a fear of giving 
trouble be a motive for not [asking my aid.] I there- 
fore conclude, sincerely desiring that the Almighty 
may look with tenderness and compassionate regard 
upon thee, and that thou mayst be preserved in his 
love in this season of severe distress. 

Thy affectionate cousin, 

Frederick Smith. 

The path which I had to tread seemed different from 
that into which many others had been introduced ; 
but it was one, to the trials whereof, after struggling 
for a time, I was generally obliged to submit : this led 
me to feel for other fellow-travellers in the strait and 
narrow way, whose exercises were different from those 
of many who had obtained their religion by educa- 
tion. In some of the Meetings for Discipline which 
1 attended, I was brought very low, by observing the 
off-hand way in which some who had not been bap- 
tized through suffering, conducted the affairs of the 
church ; and I also had silently to mourn over those 
who, as delinquents, had become the objects of the 
discipline ; having often to look back at my own 
state, when in bondage and captivity in the days of 
my youth ; the recollection of which I considered as 
a great favour, being thus preserved from thinking 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 217 

too highly of myself, or from a disposition to say, " I 
am holier than thou." The narrow path into which 
I was led, occasioned Friends to exercise a tender 
care over me ; those of more experience than myself, 
watched over me for good, lest the enemy might de- 
ceive me by some of his transformations, which he 
usually attempts in the early days of the espousals of 
the Lord's children. The goodness of the Lord is 
great ; and sometimes his visitations are marvellous, 
beyond the comprehension of man. Such has been 
his condescension, that I have been instructed in the 
night season, at times when I have been ready to 
faint, and when human help seemed unavailable. 
How shall I recount his loving-kindness during the 
travail of my soul ! 

I suffered sore conflict from a fear of having mis- 
taken an apprehended duty ; more especially as some 
of my friends had queried with me, whether this had 
not been the case ; for though I could not see that 
I was in error, yet I was not certain that it was not 
so. Whilst in this situation, my mind was much 
tossed, and I had the following dream : — 

I thought I was with some Friends with whom I 
was particularly intimate. They were viewing a 
newly-erected building which seemed to them to 
want a little repair ; and just as I was about to give 
an opinion, I was secretly told I had nothing to do 
with that matter, my business was to keep the right- 
hand road ; and upon looking about, I observed 
there were two roads before me, the one on the left 
seemed broad and pleasant, that on the right was 
very narrow and rugged, which latter I took. It was 
with some difficulty I could get along ; but after 
labouring for some time, I got to the end of this 
narrow way, and came to a pleasant green field. As 



218 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

soon as I entered this open space, my mind was so 
overcome with the enjoyment of Divine love, that I 
burst into a flood of tears. ! the love 1 felt to the 
Almighty, is beyond expression. I inquired the 
name of the place where I was, and was answered, 
" It is Heaven." I remained under this sweet im- 
pression of heavenly enjoyment for a considerable 
time ; and when I awoke, I continued praising God 
for his goodness to my soul, the rest of the night. I 
was instructed to believe, that the newly-erected 
house, which my friends apprehended wanted a little 
help, was myself, but that I was to hear, and not 
contend ; that I was steadily to follow my Guide, 
and he would lead me into the right path, and my 
reward should be sure. 

I apprehended there were few who had to endure 
greater conflicts than myself ; yet there were times 
wherein my gracious Master was pleased to favour 
me with his life-giving presence ; and although I 
was still in my infancy as to religion, I could discern 
the states of others : but I kept these things much 
to myself. As Mary did, " I pondered these things 
in my heart," thinking it not right to disclose the 
King's secrets. I thought it was not improbable, 
that at some time I should be called to the ministry; 
having at seasons to wade as through the rubbish. 
This the exercised traveller is not unfrequently obliged 
to do, before he can reap the reward of his labours. I 
was at times, ready to cry out to those who were 
standing in the way, and were not only idle them- 
selves, but hindered those who were anxious to do the 
Master's work. I was not, however, hasty in this mat- 
ter, the time not being fully come. I believe I some- 
times heard the Shepherd's voice, although like Samuel 
I did not then fully know from whence it proceeded. 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 219 

Among the occasions of rny spiritual conflict, was 
a temptation to infidelity ; this sore trial was alto- 
gether sudden and unexpected. I was one day look- 
ing over a Review, and read a short sentence, which 
was an extract from the work of a deist ical writer. 
It was like an arrow which made a deep wound in a 
vital part. I instantly became beclouded with doubts, 
and so distressed that I knew not what to do. I 
thought all I had been building up was in vain, and 
that there was no certainty as to the christian prin- 
ciple. I felt it was an attempt of the enemy to en- 
snare me, and was permitted for a season to doubt. 
I dared not open my mind to any one on the sub- 
ject, lest it should be suspected that I was not sound 
in the faith. Thus 1 was brought to a full depen- 
dence on the Lord alone for help, believing that he only 
could cure the wound which had thus been received. I 
endeavoured to keep my mind as quiet and easy as I 
could, trusting that the mystery would, in the right 
time, be unfolded. I was six weeks under this exer- 
cise : great were my cries to the alone Helper, and 
he heard me. Being at a meeting at Hammersmith, 
the Master saw meet to open my understanding, so 
that those things which had disturbed my peace, be- 
came clear and beyond all doubt ; and towards the 
close of the meeting, I had an evidence given me, 
that what was now opened to my view, was not ex- 
clusively for my own individual instruction ; but 
that there was a state then present, who had drank 
large draughts of infidelity. I had not, however, 
strength to open my mouth in the meeting. Towards 
the close, a Friend expressed somewhat in the line I 
had been exercised in, which in some degree relieved 
me. On my return to London with a Friend, I men- 
tioned the apprehension I had, respecting the state 



220 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 



above-mentioned ; he informed me I was right, there 
having been a Unitarian preacher present during the 
whole of the meeting. 

The close of the year 1788 was a time of great 
exercise to my mind ; and I experienced the buffet- 
ings of Satan in various ways. I was, notwithstand- 
ing, desirous under all, to attend to the secret instruc- 
tions of my holy Leader ; and great were my cries, 
that I might not be permitted to fall, or be led into 
error ; so that my attention seemed much fixed, even 
as to my outward movements, to know his voice. 
One First-day morning, I had an impression, although 
so gentle as scarcely to be perceived, that it would be 
right for me to go to Hammersmith Meeting, which 
began at eleven o'clock. I could hardly come to a 
determination, when the clock struck ten. There 
was now no time to spare, the distance to Hammer- 
smith being five miles ; so I even concluded to go 
there, and walked very fast. When I came to the 
wall beyond Knight sbridge, a man joined me, and 
walked beside me without saying a word : we both 
turned in to the meeting-house , It was a precious 
meeting, and when it concluded, I hastened back and 
attended Westminster Meeting, which began at two 
o'clock. On my return, the same man joined me 
again ; and all the conversation that passed between 
us was — I asked him, " Whether he had been among 
the Methodists T to which he replied, " Yes." We 
walked on together for some distance, but he could 
not keep up with me. Some weeks after this, I 
observed him come into Westminster Meeting, and 
sit down very solidly. He came again in the after- 
noon, and continued to attend meetings on First- 
days for some weeks ; after which I told him we met 
on Fifth-day mornings also ; whereupon he became 



ME310IRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 221 

a regular attender of our mid-week meetings. After 
a time, I took some further notice of him • and he 
once told me, that having become much dissatisfied 
with continuing with the Methodists, he had, on the 
day we walked together to Hammersmith, gone out 
with a view of observing which way Providence would 
lead him, and whichever w r ay that should [appear to 
be], he meant to try it ; and if he could be easy 
therein, to follow it : that seeing me walking very 
fast, he concluded I was going to some meeting, and 
he determined to follow me : that he felt so much 
peace whilst in meeting, that he believed it would be 
right for him to give up to attend our meetings, 
which he could not at first do. But when he saw 
me, (as, being resident in my neighbourhood, he often 
did,) his conscience struck him for his cowardice ; 
and at last he was obliged to come and sit with us. 
He was a solid man, and was afterwards received as 
a member among us. I record this, to show the 
necessity of ever attending to the tender feelings of 
the mind, and of taking care not to throw them 
hastily by, without giving them due consideration. 

Although the following account may not be con- 
sidered as a part of my Memoirs, yet as it has afibrded 
me instruction, I shall here narrate it. — J. C. was a 
person, who in the early part of his life resided at 
Bristol, but afterwards near London. He had been 
disunited from the Society of Friends for several 
years, but occasionally attended Friends' meetings. 
For a year or two past, he had become attached to 
myself and family, though on the whole not much so 
to Friends as a Society. He was at this time more 
than ninety years of age. One evening he came to 
drink tea with us, and in conversation, alluding to 
a young man who was of our company, he said, " I 



222 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

remember the time when I was as plain a Friend as 
he is y and went on to inform us, that when he was 
a youth, though his parents were gay, and very little 
of Friends in appearance or otherwise, yet himself 
was seriously inclined, regularly attended our reli- 
gious meetings, was particular in his attention to the 
plain language, also in his dress, and in keeping his 
father's books according to the practice of Friends, as 
to the names of the days and months. When he 
was about twenty-one years of age, as he was sitting 
very solidly in meeting, and under a close exercise of 
mind, he apprehended himself called upon to say a 
few words in the line of the ministry, which through 
weakness and fear he neglected to do. He had the 
same impression on his mind at several meetings 
afterwards, to which he uniformly neglected to attend ; 
and at last determined never to expose himself in 
that way. The frequency of this impression, and 
the distress of his mind on account of his refusal to 
attend to it, at last had a sensible effect on his 
bodily health ; which being observed by his father, 
he requested a physician who was intimate with the 
family, to find out what his complaint was, and- to 
prescribe for him. This he attempted ; but finding 
medicine to be of no use, he told his father he believed 
his complaint was out of its reach, and that he ap- 
prehended his disease was on the mind ; adding, 
that if he could discover the occasion of his distress, 
it might lead to a means of relief. Accordingly his 
father, in a very affectionate manner, told him what 
his apprehensions were ; and withal, that as he knew 
he tenderly loved him, if he would let him know the 
cause of the melancholy which seemed to oppress 
him, he might depend on his doing all in his power, 
as a parent, to make him happy. After urging him 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 223 

for some time, he confessed that it arose from dis- 
obedience to revealed duty, as above related j and 
that now all power to do the Divine will was taken 
away, so that his life was become miserable. His 
father urged him to comply with the holy requisi- 
tion ; but he told him it was now too late, he had 
done violence to his best feelings, and that he should 
never have a visitation of the like kind any more. 
His father again consulted the physician, who advised 
him to send his son to some distance from his friends, 
which was speedily done ; and his father gave him 
the superintendence and management of some mines 
in Wales. Here the tendering impressions of reli- 
gion were soon lost ; and instead of them, he had 
a settled gloom and continued distress of mind, so 
that many times he feared his senses would become 
affected. He said he remained for twenty years 
together in this state truly afflicted ; and though at 
the end of this time he seemed to get over these 
unhappy feelings, yet they frequently returned for 
years together, during his long life. He added, 
that possessing a good understanding, he had a turn 
for mineralogy and chemistry ; and was considered 
superior to most in his day, having made many im- 
provements in these sciences; and that other persons 
had richly reaped of the., fruit of his labours, but 
that everything, as to himself, had failed of suc- 
cess. A blast had overtaken all his endeavours ; and 
though never extravagant in his own expenses, he 
became reduced in his circumstances, and was now 
literally living on the bounty of others. He was 
taken ill when nearly a hundred years old, and 
during his illness showed no marks of religious 
sensibility. 

In the year 1789, I was tried various ways : I was 



22i MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

much tempted, experienced much spiritual desertion, 
and felt keen distress for the loss of the beloved of 
my soul : but there was an Arm underneath which 
supported, and under every temptation a way was 
made for my escape : adorable condescension ! Every 
token of friendship, every act of kindness from my 
brethren appeared to be more than I deserved. I 
became in my own view, as the off-scouring of the 
earth. During these close exercises and deep bap- 
tisms, my soul was exceedingly sorrowful, even unto 
death, and I had no idea of what was to follow them. 
He who knows how to prepare and qualify his ser- 
vants, is pleased to do it in his own way ; not accord- 
ing to the weak apprehension of his creature man. 
He causes his children experimentally to know, that 
his strength is made perfect in weakness, and that his 
grace is sufficient for them. 

Yery early one First-day morning, I felt an im- 
pression that I must go to RatclifFe Meeting. I 
would have put it by, and endeavoured to reason it 
away; but I was at last obliged to submit. Soon 
after I got there, very unexpectedly, John Pemberton 
and James Thornton came into the meeting. About 
an hour after the meeting was gathered, I felt an un- 
common exercise, and afterwards a secret impulse to 
engage in vocal supplication. 0, the awful distress 
which I felt ! I was naturally averse to speaking in pub- 
lic, often experiencing it to be a great difficulty in our 
own Monthly Meeting. After waiting a considerable 
time in great conflict of spirit, apprehending myself 
so abundantly weak, and every way unworthy and 
unqualified for so important an undertaking, I suf- 
fered the meeting to break up, without performing 
what appeared to be my duty. Great was my dis- 
tress and agony for this act of disobedience, even such 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 225 

as is not to be described. The two Friends above- 
named asked me to go with them to the Friend's 
house where they were to dine, which I did ; and 
dear John Pemberton, perceiving all was not right, 
asked me the reason, which I was not easy to inform 
him, and put it by. I thought notwithstanding, if ever 
I should be thus called on again, I would endeavour not 
to refuse, and in the afternoon, waited to feel an im- 
pulse of the same kind ; but the Lord's time is not our 
time. After the meeting was over, I went with J. P. 
and J. T. to a Friend's house at Bromley ; and after 
tea, in a religious opportunity there, I felt the exer- 
cise and the command ; and after much severe con- 
flict, I gave up to express a few words in supplica- 
tion. After the agitation was over, I became still 
and quiet, and humbly thankful that the Lord in 
mercy had accepted this small sacrifice from a rebel- 
lious heart. My kind friends J. P. and J. T. ex- 
pressed their unity with me, and comforted me under 
my present exercise, as we walked from the Friend's 
house. I returned home sweetly rejoicing, having 
seen of the long travail of my soul and become satis- 
fied. This was on the 28th of the Sixth Month, 
1789, the day on which I w r as thirty-two years of age. 
Those only who have entered into this service from 
the necessity alone, after having been made willing- 
through suffering to become anything or nothing, can 
form any true judgment of its awfulness • at least it 
so appeared to me, under the varied baptisms I had 
been plunged into, in order to be prepared for this en- 
gagement. To a diffident mind, and one who had at 
times experienced much Divine favour, it was a sore 
trial thus to expose myself, and become a preacher of 
righteousness to others. I was humbled as in the dust, 
and tears were my meat day and night for a season. 

Q 



226 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

At our Quarterly Meeting in the Ninth Month, I 
became much exercised, and in the early part of the 
meeting, I felt it to be my duty to open my mouth in 
supplication ; but I endeavoured to put it by, till 
near the time for breaking up the meeting, when 
I fell on my knees, and stammered out a few words. 
Although this produced peace to my own mind, as 
the result of giving up to apparent duty, yet I have 
since thought, with respect to such cases, where weak- 
ness has thus got in, and the right time for offering 
the sacrifice has passed by, it might be profitable to 
consider, whether it is not better to bear our own 
burden, rather than to offer unseasonably in a solid 
meeting ; yet this is a weighty matter, and ought not 
hastily to be decided on. It must be confessed, that 
when the true order is maintained, and every one 
moves in his proper place, the regular line of the 
ministry is beautiful, the harmony of the gospel is 
preciously felt, and the Lord is glorified. It is likely 
my beloved friend James Thornton apprehended I 
had let in some discouragement, and therefore, in 
order to reconcile me to my apparent hard service, he 
told me he had good unity with me therein, and 
especially on that day ; and with other weighty and 
truly fatherly counsel, he told me I must not expect 
a smooth path ; adding, " I believe thou wilt have 
many instructors, but few fathers, so be prepared like 
a valiant soldier, to endure hardness in the Lord's 
battles." 

Whilst J. Pemberton and J. Thornton were in 
London, we had the satisfaction of having much of 
their company ; the former frequently lodged at our 
house. He was a man of an affectionate and kind 
disposition, with great humility, and a most benevo- 
lent mind. I understood that in. his visit to Ireland, 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 221 

he expended among the poor of that nation, more 
than a thousand pounds. Whilst travelling through 
Scotland, he was equally liberal to the poor of that 
country ; and finding, in his visit to the northern 
islands, that the inhabitants had nothing to eat but 
dried fish, when he returned into Scotland, he loaded 
a vessel with meal, as a present to these poor islanders. 
Whilst at Lincoln, in company with Thomas Ross, 
also from America, and some other Friends, John 
Pemberton had a particular wish to have a meeting 
with the soldiers that were quartered there ; and 
application being made to some of the officers for 
leave, it was refused. This produced great exercise of 
mind to J. P., so that he could get no rest; nor could 
he leave the place, much to the mortification of 
Thomas Ross, who wanted to be moving forward. 
At last as he was laying on the bed, it came into his 
mind to make inquiry whether the commander of the 
regiment was in the city. This being done, it was 
discovered that he was. J. P. then said he would go 
to him himself. When he got to the house where 
he was, he sent up his name and added " from Phila- 
delphia/' The General desired Mr. Pemberton might 
be told to walk in. On entering the room the General 
rose up to meet him, and in the most affectionate 
manner asked after his health, expressing the great 
satisfaction he felt at meeting with him in England, 
and inquired how he had found him out. All this 
much surprised J. P., and he told the General he 
thought he mistook him for some other person. But 
the General asked him if he did not remember his 
being quartered at his house during the American 
war, adding, " If you do not, sir, 1 do ; also the great 
kindness I received from you and your family. I 
have every reason to be grateful to you ; and now 

Q2 



228 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

you are in England, if there is any thing in which I 
can contribute to your happiness, it will afford me 
the greatest pleasure." J. P. then recognized his 
friend, and related to him the subject of his errand, 
which appeared remarkable to both of them. He 
told him that if it would be any gratification to him 
to have a meeting with his regiment, it should be 
held in any way he should appoint, either on the 
parade or in the meeting-house ; and he added, 
" both officers and men shall attend, and I shall 
attend also." As the meeting-house was not suffi- 
ciently large, it was concluded to hold the meeting 
on the parade ; and it may be considered the most 
extraordinary circumstance relative to this meeting, 
that the whole service, which was truly satisfactory, 
fell on Thomas Ross, John Pemberton being silent. 

In the early part of the year 1790 I went into 
Sussex, and attended the Quarterly Meeting for that 
county ; as also that for Norfolk, where although I 
was silent I was not without exercise ; and a mi- 
nister whom I did not know, told me she had good 
unity with me, that though I had said nothing among 
them, she was persuaded I was under much travail of 
spirit, and that she believed I was much in my place 
in coming to that meeting. The pressure of my 
exercise produced a severe fever, so that I hastened 
home under great dejection of mind : I was how- 
ever, favoured to recover in a few weeks. In the 
autumn of the same year I went to the Quarterly 
Meeting for Buckinghamshire, and staid a few days 
at Wycombe. At this time I apprehended I was 
remarkably favoured with the ownings of the Divine 
Master ; and one night when I went to bed, the 
overflowings of heavenly goodness seemed greater 
than I had ever before experienced. I became so 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 229 

enfeebled and wearied, that I thought my natural 
life would be taken away, as I seemed unable to bear 
a continuance of so great a degree of heavenly enjoy- 
ment ; and I prayed earnestly that it might be taken 
from me, and a portion more suited to my weak state 
might be given me instead : indeed I believed great 
things did not become me, and that I was unworthy 
of so much Divine favour. But the next evening I 
became so discouraged that all seemed distress and 
misery ; and I never before knew a time of so much 
darkness and wretchedness. I was wearied with the 
weight of exercise on my mind, and at length fell 
asleep ; but very soon felt as though the adversary 
fought with me, overcame me, and pressed me down to 
the earth. In this extremity I called out loudly and 
then awoke, but it was only to feel the same distress- 
ing sensations and apprehensions ; and when I again 
fell asleep I still had to encounter them. I got up 
very early in the morning in much agony of spirit, 
intending for London, whither George Dillwyn bore 
me company. I set off under the painful apprehen- 
sion that I had gone before my Guide, and that this 
was the cause of my present trouble. I ventured to 
open my mind to G. D., and asked him kindly to 
point out to me where I had missed it at Wycombe; 
but to my surprise he told me he had felt much unity 
and love towards me, and that nothing uncomfortable 
had appeared to him ; and in truly affectionate and 
fatherly freedom, counselled me against the strata- 
gems of an unwearied enemy. 

Notwithstanding the kind counsel of G. D., I could 
not get above the deep plunge I had at Wycombe. 
Indeed many were my trials inward and outward : 
the enemy pursued me on every side. So great were 
my conflicts that for many months together, I ap- 



230 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH, 

peared as in a wilderness of thorns and briers, where 
my spiritual ear was almost constantly assailed as 
with noises and cries of devouring beasts of prey. My 
path was as on a sea of glass mingled with fire : at 
every step I appeared to slide, and to be in danger of 
falling into the horrible pit. ! the dreadful season 
of dismay which I endured, in order that I might 
know my own superlative weakness, and that through 
my dear Redeemer only I could be saved. In the 
midst of my troubles I was cared for many ways : 
kind friends were watching over me for good: Some 
of their letters conveyed deep instruction in the 
needful time : I transcribe extracts from two of 
them as follows : — 

" Needham, Sixth Month 28$, 1790, 

" I have often thought of thee since I was in thy 
company in London, feeling great nearness towards 
thee, and much wishing thy growth and preserva- 
tion ; believing if thou keep thy place thou wilt 
have acceptable service for thy God. Thou must 
expect trying dispensations ; they are the lot and 
portion of the true-born children. Trials bring us 
into a state of true feeling one for another ; deepening 
our judgment, so as to enable us to make a right dis- 
tinction between thing and thing. It is my situation 
frequently to be much sunk, so afraid at times that 
I shall not hold out to the end, &c, <fec. 
" Thy affectionate friend, 

" W. C." 

"Philadelphia, Eighth Month, 1790. 

"Beloved Friend, 
"On First day last in the evening, I reached 
my habitation from a journey into Virginia, when I 
met thy affectionate letter of 22nd of Second Month, 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 231 

and 9th of Fourth Month. The forepart was much 
descriptive of my own situation for a long course of 
time ; and at times I did not expect ever to experi- 
ence favour to be renewed. I am through mercy 
somewhat relieved from the weight of distress I had 
endured many months, and labouring to stand single 
and resigned. It is acceptable to find light and 
favour is renewed to thee ; and perhaps thou art now 
enabled to see that the trying dispensations which 
attended thee were for the great work of sanctiflca- 
tion, and that thou mightst speak from living, feel- 
ing experience of what the Lord hath done for thy 
soul. Thou knowest the Lord's people formerly had 
many trials, conflicts and engagements, before the 
old inhabitants were removed ; and yet some were 
suffered to remain, to prove their faith and patience ; 
and it requires great watchfulness, circumspection 
and humility, with daily dependence, to keep inward 
quiet and peace. But the Lamb and his followers will 
have the victory. I hear a good account of thee, and 
wish thy steady attention and faithfulness to the gift. 
Thou must expect while here to meet with conflicts, 
provings of faith and patience ; we are given to ex- 
pect it. ' In the world ye shall have tribulation/ but 
c in me peace.' Mayst thou be strengthened to abide 
in his love, so wilt thou experience the joy of the 
Lord to be thy strength. And let it be thy care, 
whatever thou mayst meet with which may be hard 
to the natural part, to sink down into patience, with 
a hope that all things shall work together for good. 
I did hope and am rejoiced to find thy beloved wife 
comes forward, and trust she will become a helpmeet 
to thee, and that you will become one another's joy in 
the Lord. I had sympathy with her when present, 
as I thought I saw and felt there was a strong con- 



232 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

flict between the house of Saul and the house of 
David, and I am glad to find the latter waxeth 
stronger and stronger. My dear love to her and your 
lovely children ; and revive in her remembrance that 
the righteous shall hold on their way. May she be 
strengthened to become victorious. I am glad to find 
my countryman, Jacob Duche, was so sustained under 
the great trial he experienced. The value of religion 
is best known under great trials ; there is something 
to recur to, that stays and steadies the mind. My 
love to him and wife. I wish him to see through all 
mixtures, and to become truly simple and open to the 
instruction of the still small voice. This will settle 
his mind and gain him more true wisdom and instruc- 
tion than volumes of books, and dipping into myste- 
rious writings, that may and does tend more to per- 
plex than edify. It will be acceptable to hear from 
thee, &c. 

" Thy loving friend, 

"John Pemberton." 

When John Pemberton was in England, I showed 
him the way to Jacob Duche's house. He was a 
minister of the church of England, and a very pious 
man ; but I apprehend he had somewhat confused 
himself by reading the writings of Swedenborg, 
Bcehmen, and other mysterious writers ; and when 
we called on him I believe his mind was in a great 
deal of perplexity. We had some serious conversa- 
tion with him, and left him in an agreeable state of 
mind. In a few months afterward he called on me, 
and seemed to wish for a continuance of acquaintance* 
After a time he gave up to what he believed a religious 
duty, by relinquishing his church preferments, which 
were valuable, and withdrew into privacy. The rea- 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 233 

son he gave me for taking this step was, that he did 
not believe it was right to receive money for preach- 
ing, but considered that the Gospel should be dis- 
pensed freely, and uncontaminated with the love of 
gain. At first he had no objection to preach a 
funeral or charity sermon. He had a wife, son, and 
two daughters, all religiously inclined. The son 
was an artist, and had travelled a great deal on the 
continent of Europe, in order to improve himself in 
the art of painting, in which he excelled. He had 
studied under Benjamin West. He undertook to 
paint the history of our Saviour, and finished some 
of his pieces in a superior style. He used frequently 
to converse with me on the subject of painting, as re- 
garded in a religious point of view. On this, I freely 
gave him my opinion, viz., that I would not take 
upon me to say that painting or drawing was sinful 
in itself ; but I thought it might, if indulged in, 
become a passion, and really be the " sin that easily 
besets ;" that when we are convinced in our minds 
that this is the case, [as regards any pursuit,] and we 
so far indulge in it as that it has the pre-eminence in 
our thoughts, it then partakes of the nature of ido- 
latry, against which we should be ever on our guard. 
I had a great affection for this young man, and I 
believe it was reciprocal. Though he was athletic, 
and well grown as to outward appearance, yet he had 
symptoms of pulmonary disease, that led me to fear 
he was not long lived. A blood-vessel had broken 
internally ; and I observed whenever he was earnest 
in pursuing his favourite object, painting, that the 
vessel discharged blood for several days together ; 
and if he kept quiet, the bleeding stopped and his 
health appeared restored. I urged his giving up the 
employment, but he excused himself from so doing, 



234 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

by saying that his necessities now obliged him to 
pursue it. He however got worse and took to his 
bed, and was often in a heavenly frame of mind. On 
my speaking to him respecting the awfulness of his 
situation, he remarked to his father that he had, 
during his illness, recollected what I had said to him 
on the subject of painting, and that now he had an 
indubitable evidence that I was right in the observa- 
tions I had made, and if it would please the Lord to 
restore him, he never would renew that employment 
again, believing it was an employment that was sinful 
to him. I was much with him during his illness : 
towards the close of it, one or other of his friends sat 
up with him at night. One night I went to the 
house intending to sit up with him. When I knocked 
at the door, his father opened it, and on my asking 
him how his son did, with a sweet smile he answered, 
" He is well, he is happy, and I am happy. He died 
about half an hour since, and departed most glo- 
riously. We were all around him when he said, ' I 
see the holy angels waiting for me, to convey my 
spirit into the bosom of my Saviour. Don't you see 
them ? there they are all round the bed.' In this 
situation he died ; triumphantly singing the praises 
of Him whom his soul was anxiously waiting to 
behold." It was this occurrence that John Pern- 
berton referred to in his letter. 

I may here mention a circumstance respecting 
Jacob Duche, that at the time appeared interesting. 
He called on me one day early in the week, to consult 
me as he said on a subject of some importance ; and 
proceeded to inform me that the Bishop of London 
had ordered him to preach in St. Paul's Church on 
the next Sunday, and that having given up his pre- 
ferments he felt a difficulty about it. — I told him 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 235 

it was a matter that it would be improper for me to 
interfere about ; he certainly should be the best 
judge of his own feelings : I added, I thought he had 
got so far on his religious journey as to call no man 
master ; at the same time I wished him to pursue 
that which would be most easy to his own mind. — 
He told me that in looking at it in the best manner he 
was able, and seeking best instruction, he thought he 
should be most satisfied to go. — I told him I did not 
feel at all uneasy about it, and I earnestly wished him 
well through the business. — In the course of the con- 
versation, he said in rather a peevish way, that he 
knew I apprehended it w r as not the best way to write 
a sermon beforehand ; but he had considered the sub- 
ject, and he thought if he sat down on the Saturday 
and depended on Divine assistance for its composi- 
tion, it must be equally acceptable as though he had 
waited till the Sunday to receive instruction in the 
pulpit in order to deliver an extempore discourse. — I 
replied that in the days of our ignorance and weak- 
ness, these things might be winked at ; but when the 
dispensation came, in which we had an unshaken 
belief that we must live by faith, it was then I appre- 
hended very different ; but I did not wish to dictate 
to him ; my solicitude for him was, that he might be 
directed right. — We then parted. The beginning of 
the next week he called on me again, when he 
appeared as though a great load had been taken from 
him, — so innocently cheerful that I could not but 
remark it to him. He told me it really was the case, 
that he felt his mind covered with love and peace on 
account of having faithfully fulfilled his commision 
at St. Paul's ; that his mind had been greatly exercised 
previous to the day he went ; and when he got there one 
clergyman read the prayers, another read the commu- 



236 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

nion service, and while the Psalms were singing he 
got into the pulpit and laid his sermon on the cushion. 
During this time he felt great agitation of mind, though 
he knew not the reason. Previous to his preaching, 
he knelt down as is usual, and fervently prayed for 
Divine assistance, and that what he should have to 
deliver might be effectual to the hearts of his hearers, 
&c. He believed he prayed from his heart ; but 
the exercise he was under when he opened his ser- 
mon ! He felt an injunction as clear as if he had 
been verbally told it, that he must not preach that 
sermon. What was he to do 1 There was not a mo- 
ment to lose ; the congregation were all in expecta- 
tion and looking at him. A part of the epistle for 
the day, as in an instant, came into his mind, from 
which he took his text ; and he proceeded in the 
faith that the Lord would help him, and he was not 
deceived. Matter seemed to flow in so extraordinary 
a manner, that he was humbled as in the dust. Feel- 
ing deeply the subject he was upon, the tears flowed 
down his cheeks, as well as down the cheeks of his 
audience. There was no want of words, no halting, 
the only difficulty now was to know when he should 
come to a period, so much fresh matter seemed to 
press upon him. He however stopped in good 
time, under the covering of Divine favour. When 
he came out of the pulpit he was surrounded by the 
congregation, who expressed their grateful thanks for 
the blessing they had received through his sermon. 
" And thankful was I," said he, " when I got home ; 
nor did I omit to return thanks where it was due, for 
the condescending favour I had received : but" he 
added, " it was you that brought me into the diffi- 
culty, although I have reason to bless God for the 
termination of it." 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 237 

Very soon after I was received as a member of 
the Society of Friends, and had the privilege of 
sitting in their meetings for discipline, I thought I 
discerned the great advantage of private labour ; of 
endeavouring with all privacy, if possible, to restore 
any individual that may have been overtaken with 
a fault ; thus watching over one another for good 
in true love. I had opportunities very early of ob- 
serving the benefit that resulted from such labour ; 
and although sometimes it has been difficult at 
first to make a due impression, yet in most in- 
stances, when Divine aid was sought, the humble 
endeavour has been crowned with success. An in- 
stance in point occurred about this time : — A young 
man who had from early youth shewn very many 
bad dispositions, and great depravity of mind, had, 
at times, engaged a good deal of my attention. He 
had an amiable mother to whom he behaved very 
unkindly. I frequently remonstrated with him on 
his unbecoming conduct, but without any seem- 
ing good effect. He indulged in loose company, in 
reading improper books, in attending the theatre 
and other dissipations ; and gave liberty to his pas- 
sions till he became hardened, and seemed to have 
lost every trace of anything like tenderness of dis- 
position. Whilst in his career of folly, his father, 
who had been very tender over him, died ; and his 
mother had been seized with a paralytic affection, so 
that her faculties and all her powers were much 
impaired. After the funeral, a Friend and myself 
called on this young man, and had a serious oppor- 
tunity with him, wherein his state was spoken to in 
a remarkable manner. He was urged particularly 
to look at his awful situation, and told if he pos- 
sessed any feeling at that moment, he could not but 



238 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

be sensible that the hand of Omnipotence was upon 
him, in order to shew him that all power belongs to 
Him, and that it is in vain for us to struggle against 
it. It was also added, that although he might appre- 
hend he could not be under a more heavy or trying 
dispensation than the present, yet he must not be 
surprised if a greater trial was at hand, in order that 
he might be instructed more deeply than he ever yet 
had been, in the necessity of obedience to the Divine 
command. He was much offended at this plain 
dealing, and he mentioned as much to a Friend ; 
withal adding, that he had a great mind to have left 
the room, for he was sure no greater trial could befall 
him than the present. In less than two weeks from 
this time, to my surprise, he sent to me to let me 
know he was dangerously ill, and to request that I 
would call upon him as soon as I could. As soon as 
I saw him, he made an humble apology for sending 
for me, and said he had so far come to his senses as 
to see that I had, for a length of time, been his true 
friend, and one in whom he could confide ; though 
he had foolishly resisted every attempt I had made 
to persuade him to more consistent conduct. I told 
him he never had offended me ; for all that I had 
ever done [in that respect,] had been with a view 
towards his real happiness ; that I was rejoiced to 
find him in such an agreeable disposition ; and that 
he might depend on a continuation of my friendly 
regard to him. On inquiry as to the state of his 
health, I found he had a violent fever ; and from 
the irritability of his nervous system, there was great 
reason to suspect that in a few hours he would 
become delirious, in which case it would be very 
uncertain how the complaint would terminate. I 
therefore recommended that a physician should be 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 239 

sent for immediately ; and that he should settle his 
affairs and make his will without delay, and in as 
concise a way as he could. All this was done pre- 
vious to the coming on of the delirium. In the 
mean time he earnestly requested I would not leave 
him more than I could help ; I therefore staid with 
him as much as I could in the day time, and took 
my turn to sit up with him at night. I lost no 
opportunity of endeavouring to turn his attention to 
the important matter of his soul's salvation through 
Jesus Christ. The delirium did not last so long as 
was at first expected ; but the fever continued several 
weeks. I knew he had imbibed deistical notions, 
which I had feared would make it difficult by the 
mere force of reason to convince him of his errors : 
my dependence was on our divine Helper, who was 
pleased to bless the work. One day I ventured to 
ask him if he had any objection to see a minister 
who was then in London ; to which he objected, on 
account, (as he said) of his always preaching from 
Solomons Song. However a few days afterward, 
when we were discoursing on the necessity of faith 
in Jesus Christ, he broke out into a sort of ecstacy 
as follows : " Tell me, thou whom my soul loveth, 
where thou feedest thy flock, and where thou restest 
at noon-day; for why should I be as one that turneth 
aside." This he spoke with great earnestness, and 
burst into a flood of tears, more especially after 
repeating the latter part of the sentence. During 
some part of his illness he was all agitation and fears, 
lest he should die and be utterly miserable. One 
night in particular, he said he wished to go to sleep, 
but could not, unless I would let him take hold 
of my hand : he awoke several times in great horror, 
crying out, save me ! save me ! saying, when he 



240 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

was a little awake, " do not leave me Frederick ! 
I thought I was just dropping into the flames that 
appeared underneath me ; don't let go my hand." 
After a time he became more composed, and he 
wished me to read some of Cowper's Hymns. I 
selected one, entitled The Contrite Heart, and having 
read it, he was much pleased with it ; said he should 
like to learn it, and if I would read it again, he 
would repeat after me. The first stanza seemed to 
affect him much. 

" The Lord will happiness divine 

On contrite hearts bestow ; 
Then tell me gracious Grod, is mine 

A contrite heart or no." 

When he came to the two last lines, he burst into 
tears ; and with a degree of earnestness he cried out, 

" Then tell me gracious Grod, is mine 
A contrite heart or no." 

and this he did every time he repeated these lines. It 
was a great relief to my mind to observe the gradual 
unfoldings of Divine goodness to this young man : it 
was by the power of Divine grace alone, that he was 
made to see the excellency of the Christian dispensa- 
tion. One day, while conversing on the sufferings 
and death of Christ, he seemed to enter into the 
nature of his suffering on the cross, and spoke of it 
with that sensible feeling, which none but those who 
are favoured to experience its efficacy could manifest. 
" 0," said he, " the goodness of God ! to institute such 
a plan of redemption for poor, lost man. And did he 
suffer all these things for me ? Ah ! what must have 
been the sufferings of the holy Jesus, in bearing the 
sins of the whole world, when I am so unable to bear 
my own ! Did he die for me, a wretched sinner ? 0, 
the goodness of God !" These, and many more ex- 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 241 

pressions, from true religious feeling he uttered, the 
tears trickling down his cheeks. He was brought to 
such a state as to believe, if he was favoured to die 
then, he should be received into glory, and seemed 
devoutly to wait for his change. But his disorder 
abated ; and when he perceived he was likely to 
recover, he felt keen distress ; and said that his multi- 
plied weaknesses, and his natural inclination to evil, 
which none knew 7 but himself, caused in him such a 
dread of again entering into the world, as he could 
not express. It pleased Him who orders all things 
well, gradually to restore him to health. 

The Almighty, in his dispensations tow r ards the 
children of men, acts as seems good to himself; and 
it not unfrequently happens that the ways of his 
Providence are involved in deep mystery, which in 
his own time he is often pleased to reveal. Conceived 
in sin, man dwells in the midst of darkness, which 
can only be dispelled by the influence of Divine 
grace. With some, as with the Apostle Paul, the 
mind is at once so divinely illuminated, that they 
pass forthwith out of the gloomy darkness of death 
into the marvellous light of the kingdom of God ; 
with others the change is less rapid, the shades of 
ignorance gradually dispersing and vanishing, as the 
night yields to the approach of the morning light. In 
the following narrative, we discover the power and 
excellence of Divine goodness, and a great display of 
heavenly condescension. — 

About the year 1797, I became acquainted with 

Count N , a native of Ireland. In early youth 

he was sent by his parents into Germany, and was 
educated at one of the Universities there. He was 
brought up in the Roman Catholic persuasion ; the 
inconsistency of w T hich, he told me, he very early 



242 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

saw. The bigotry, superstition, and wickedness of 
the priests were such as to give him a disgust to 
religion ; believing, he said, that the foundation of 
it was dissimulation and priestcraft. When he left 
the University, he was introduced to the Emperor, 
Joseph the Second, to whom he afterwards became 
Lord of the Bedchamber, and was soon made an 
officer of rank in the German army, a part of which 
he commanded in a war against the Turks. The 
Emperor made him a Count, in addition to his here- 
ditary titles of Marquis and Yiscount of Valedesto, in 
Spain ; and he was also a grandee of the first rank 
in that kingdom. He was besides related to some of 
the first nobility in England and Ireland. 

At the commencement of our acquaintance, he ex- 
pressed a wish to know something of the principles of 
Friends. I lent him Barclay 's Apology, which he 
read : when he returned it, he told me it was the 
best written book on divinity he had ever seen ; and 
if it were possible to act according to the sentiments 
contained in it, no man could act wrong : but he 
added, " I have something to say to you in private, 
which I hardly dare say to any man. Unfortunately 
for me, I do not believe in any system of religion ; I 
do not even believe in the existence of God. You 
may be assured it is a subject which has given me a 
great deal of thought ; and when I came into this 
Protestant country, I had hoped I should have dis- 
covered the essence of truth, and that the Protestant 
clergy would have given the lie to the impressions I 
had imbibed from my early prejudices, on account of 
the dissolute and abandoned lives of the Romish 
clergy. But alas ! I perceive there is the same system 
of deception carried on in England as in Germany. 
The clergy have only one thing in view, and that is 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 243 

the accumulation of wealth • and, where it can be 
done, to endeavour after splendour and aggrandize- 
ment. As to their flocks, it is a matter of no conse- 
quence whether they are ignorant or wise ; it appears 
no part of their study to aim at their religious im- 
provement ; so that I find myself just where I was. 
I observe that all mankind are alike ; they pretend 
to religion, and that is all ; they talk of it and there 
they leave it. As a confirmation of what I say, I 
may inform you, that on my first coming into these 
parts, I paid a visit to my relations in Ireland, who 
showed me great hospitality and kindness ; and, as 
is usual in that country, there were large convivial 
parties, where neither the manners nor the conver- 
sation would bear much reflection, even in an infidel 
(as I suppose I should be called.) 

"It happened that the conversation one evening 
took a religious turn, in the course of which I inad- 
vertently leaned towards scepticism. On this, one of 
the company hastily said, ' Surely sir, you don't 
doubt the existence of a Supreme Being ;' — to which 
I replied, ( What are your sentiments on that sub- 
ject V — ( Why sir, my sentiments are these : I look 
upon the Almighty as of infinite purity, as the object 
both of love and fear ; that I am in his immediate 
presence ; it is through him I live and move and 
have my being. I consider that I am amenable to 
him for every action of my life ; that if I do evil 
voluntarily, I run the hazard of his eternal displea- 
sure, but if I act according to his will, I shall be eter- 
nally happy.' — 6 Is this, sir, really and truly your 
belief?' — 'Yes sir, it undoubtedly is ; and it is also 
the belief of every well-regulated Christian.' — ' Then 
sir, how comes it to pass that your actions correspond 
so little with your professions ? Is it possible that 

R 2 



244 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

such a hearsay evidence as this would convince me, 
were I an atheist, of the truth of God's existence ? 
Has any part of your conduct, since we have been so 
often together, manifested either love, or fear, or reve* 
rence for this object of your pretended regard ? I 
wish not to give you offence, but see whether there 
is anything like consistency between your declara- 
tions and the conduct I am led to fear you are in the 
habitual practice of.' The gentleman seemed con- 
fused and thoughtful ; and I immediately turned the 
discourse to another subject." 

I was much struck with this conversation, and con- 
siderably more so, when he told me that he had left 
Germany on account of his objection to serve any 
longer in the army. The thought of taking away the 
life of a fellow-man, had become distressing and per- 
plexing to him; so much so, that he at length resolved 
he would in no way be accessory to it. He added, 
that since he had been in England, a relation of his, 

the Marquis of B , had kindly offered to raise a 

regiment of horse in Ireland, and get him the com- 
mand of it, which he had politely refused, on the 
ground mentioned above ; and that this had been the 
occasion of the Marquis's displeasure, and the loss of 
his friendship. From what I could gather, the Mar- 
quis had shown him much attention, and had con- 
ferred on him many favours ; but the natural impe- 
tuosity of Count N 's temper, and the hauteur he 

had acquired in the German court, had rendered him 
impatient of contradiction ; so that I had reason to 
suspect the Marquis had taken umbrage at some other 
part of his conduct, in addition to his refusal of the 
generous offer of preferment in Ireland. 

I felt much interested for this person, and carefully 
concealed from every one what his sentiments were. 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 245 

I apprehended that where there appeared so great 
sincerity, the Almighty would reveal himself in his 
own time. He seemed much gratified by attending 
our religious meetings, and I have many times seen 
him much affected and in tears. He used frequently, 
in a modest way, to argue with me the point of his 
disbelief; but never, I believe to much purpose on 
his part. I lent him several books wherein the exis- 
tence of God was treated of; but all seemed unavail- 
ing. He made notes on a Bible I lent him, almost 
through the whole book, in opposition to its precepts 
and doctrines. Towards the close of his infidelity, he 
requested I would lend him Newton's Principia ; 
which I refused, in the belief, as I told him, that he 
had wandered far in the dark, by seeking for that 
without, which was only to be discovered in the secret 
of the heart ; I therefore advised him to keep his mind 
quiet, adding, that I believed the Almighty would 
one day make himself known to him, but he must 
not be surprised if He should do it in such a way, as 
would, in his view, be contemptible. 

A few weeks after this, two female Friends, Ann 
Christy and Deborah Moline, had a concern to visit 
the families of Westminster meeting, as also those 
who were attenders but not in membership. As 

Count N had for a considerable time been an 

almost constant attender, his name was set down with 
two others ; and I requested the Friends to let me sit 
with them. Very soon after we were seated, Divine 
Goodness was pleased to overshadow this little as- 
sembly. The poor object of this narrative, in a few 
minutes burst into tears, and continued in this hum- 
bled state for nearly twenty minutes before a word 
was uttered ; when one of the females, unlearned as to 
human attainments, but who had waited for Christ to 



246 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

be her Instructor, expressed herself to this effect : 
That she had felt an extraordinary solemnity at our 
first sitting down, which had continued to the present 
time ; so much so, that she had feared to speak, 
although she also feared to keep silence, more espe- 
cially as the subject which had come before her, was 
of a truly awful and extraordinary nature. " Surely/' 
she said, " there is no person present, who has any 
doubts respecting the existence of a Supreme Being. 
If there is, I would have such to look into their own 
hearts, and observe the secret operation of something 
they cannot but feel. When they have committed an 
evil action, how does it torment the poor mind, and 
render it for a time continually uneasy ! On the other 
hand, when they have acted well and have avoided 
the temptation to evil, what a sweet glow of appro- 
bation has covered the mind ! From whence proceed 
this uneasiness and this approbation ? Man cannot 
communicate such sensations to himself. Be assured 
they come from God ; nay, it is God himself who 
thus speaks in the inmost of the soul." The Friend 
said but little more— to the person addressed it was 
a volume — it was as though the windows of heaven 
w r ere opened — to myself it was an opportunity never 
to be forgotten. 

About two days afterwards, my friend called on me 
in the evening, and requested to have some conversa- 
tion with me, to w r hich I readily agreed. Without 
much preface, he told me, that he knew not how he 
could be sufficiently grateful for the patience I had 
shown him, or for the kind concern I had manifested 
for his welfare ; but he added, " I believe it will give 
you inconceivable pleasure, to be informed that I have 
not a doubt remaining. I am full of thankfulness to 
that Almighty Being, who in mercy has made himself 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 247 

known to this poor benighted heart of mine, in some 
degree through the instrumentality of that dear 
woman • though I may acknowledge to you, that be- 
fore a word was spoken, the business was completed. 
I had taken great pains, as you know, to invalidate 
the Scripture testimonies ; but at that solemn and 
heavenly opportunity, all the arguments I had made 
use of for this purpose, reverted back, and I became 
ashamed and confounded. I felt as it were, all at 
once, the certain evidence of a merciful and kind God, 
which so overcame me, that I could only show my 
love and gratitude by my tears ; so that for a 
while, I appeared as in heaven, that is, in a state of 
mind far beyond what any earthly object could be- 
stow. The dear woman was doubtless sensible of my 
situation, she having confirmed to me the evidence I 
felt in my own soul. I thought this evening, that 
though I had been thus favoured, it would be difficult 
to prove the divinity of Christ, a doctrine which I 
had conceived to be altogether absurd ; but on coming 
up your steps, and waiting to speak to you, the whole 
mystery was unfolded, and I now have no doubts on 
that subject." He explained to me his views on this 
point, in a remarkable manner ; as also on the creation 
of man, his fall, and other serious subjects, so as to leave 
me no doubt that he had been favoured with a Divine 
illumination. His very nature seemed altered, and 
his countenance changed. From the haughtiness so 
often observable in those who possess outward rank 
in society, he was now become mild and passive like 
a little child. 

I remember, soon after this occurrence, his calling 
on me one morning, when, during the previous night, 
there had been a dreadful storm, attended with violent 
thunder and lightning. He related his feelings at 



248 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH, 

the time, which were very striking. He said that 
previous to this storm he had never known what the 
fear of death was ; for he had supposed death to be 
mere annihilation, when both soul and body were 
destroyed at the same moment. But now the case 
was different ; he saw his awful situation, that in an 
instant he might be in the presence of that Being 
whom he had contemned during his whole life. His 
sins were ranged in order before him, and he felt all 
the horrors of self-condemnation and fear. In this 
situation he was led to pray fervently for forgiveness 
for the past, and preservation for the future. It was 
a new scene in the period of his existence, the effect 
of which words could not express. After his mind 
had been thus graciously visited and enlightened, his 
naturally imperious temper would frequently show 
itself in sudden fits of passion, for which he often 
expressed his sorrow. Perhaps this natural temper 
was permitted to assail him in order to convince him 
of the necessity of watchfulness, and of guarding 
against dependence on his own strength. It is but 
justice to him to say, that he never showed intempe- 
rate behaviour towards myself, but always treated me 
with the greatest respect. 

He had a sister, a Boman Catholic, married to a 
nobleman at Strasburg, with whom he intended to 
reside. The necessity for this he very often lamented, 
because he would in that case be surrounded by the 
Bomish clergy, whom he despised as gross hypocrites, 
but towards whom he must behave with civility, 
which would be a great task to him. Previously to 
his leaving England, he requested to be supplied with 
some of the writings of Friends, feeling more satisfac- 
tion in the perusal of them than any other books. He 
attended Friends' meetings regularly till his departure; 



MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 249 

[This last narrative concludes the Memoirs of 
Frederick Smith, as written by himself. About the 
) r ear 1806, he removed from the Haymarket, West- 
minster, to Croydon, where he continued to reside till 
his decease. — The following brief sketch of his cha- 
racter, and account of his last illness and death, are 
extracted from the Testimony of Kingston Monthly 
Meeting. ~\ 

He did not travel much in the work of the mini- 
stry, although it appears, that from the year 1790 to 
1818, with the approbation of his friends, he per- 
formed journeys in that service through divers counties 
in England, and was often engaged in visits to the 
families of Friends : and having deeply partaken of 
the sufferings, as well as of the consolations of the 
Gospel, he was, in his ministry and otherwise, a true 
sympathizer with the afflicted and mournful, pouring 
in the wine and oil for their refreshment and comfort. 
A large portion of his time was occupied in endea- 
vouring to alleviate the distresses of his fellow-crea- 
tures ; he was actively engaged in promoting many 
public institutions for benevolent purposes ; he also 
devoted himself for the good of others in a more 
private capacity, and was frequently engaged as a 
peace-maker in healing of differences. He was not 
only exemplary himself, but also zealous in encou- 
raging others in the diligent attendance of our 
religious meetings. His conversation was innocently 
cheerful, and his affectionate disposition procured for 
him great influence over the youth : [the two Addresses 
which follow these Memoirs, shew how deeply he was 
concerned that this interesting class of his fellow- 
professors, should be found walking in the truth.] 

He had, for a considerable time been liable to an 
affection of the heart, but did not appear to grow 
materially worse until the 20th of Fourth Month, 



250 MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK SMITH. 

1823 ; when, after a restless night, in the morning 
he was seized with a violent paroxysm ; this con- 
tinued about three-quarters of an hour, and was 
succeeded by violent retchings, at intervals, until 
noon the next day : from that time he appeared 
quite easy. On coming to himself, he said, "I believe 
my time will not now be long ; God bless you, God 
Almighty bless you. I only desire resignation, and 
I feel resignation, and am willing to suffer whatever 
the Lord may think fit to inflict upon me." He then 
prayed fervently and with great energy, "Let not 
thy hand spare nor thine eye pity, till thou hast made 
me what thou wouldst have me to be :" and said, "this 
has been my constant prayer for several weeks, I may 
say months past : my sufferings have been very 
great for some hours, but I can bear all, everything, 
ah ! yes, no matter what, if it be His will. Almighty 
God bless you all, and all my dear friends. Lord 
God, thy hand is upon me ! enable me to bear all to 
the end. I feel resigned either to stay or go ; the 
Lord's will be done. The Lord is good, he is very 
good ; he has given me a kind and affectionate wife, 
dutiful and affectionate children ;" and he enumerated 
other blessings that excited his feelings of gratitude. 
After this, his breathing being very oppressive, it 
was with difficulty he could express himself ; but his 
uniform reply to inquiries was, " I feel very com- 
fortable." He lay in a peaceful, quiet state, and was 
sensible to the last. About two minutes before his 
departure, he asked one of his children to take his 
hand, and without sigh or groan expired. 

He died the 22nd of Fourth Month, 1823, at 
Croydon, and was interred there on the 27th of the 
same, previous to a very large and solemn meeting ; 
aged sixty-six, a minister about thirty-four years. 



A LETTEE 

TO 

THE CHILDREN AND YOUTH 

OF THE 

SOCIETY OF FRIENDS, 
By FREDERICK SMITH. 



Dear Young Friends, 

I regard as some of the most pleasing circumstances 
of my life, the opportunities I have had of contem- 
plating the innocence and -simplicity of such youth, 
as have had their minds regulated and governed by 
divine love, and feared to do evil lest they should 
offend that Almighty Being, under whose precious 
influence they have desired to be preserved. Under 
this consideration, I feel myself engaged to offer to 
you a few hints, which I trust will not be unprofitable. 

In the first place, I wish to call your attention to 
a subject, with which there is little doubt but most 
of you are acquainted ; namely, the proneness there 
is in your nature to do evil — to yield to the secret 
temptations that frequently oppress you, and urge 
you, perhaps to commit sins, which you would be 
ashamed to acknowledge, even to your most intimate 
companions. This, I apprehend, few of you will 
deny. At the same time, some of you must also 
acknowledge, that, notwithstanding you have been 
thus tried, as you have considered the dreadful con- 



252 A LETTER TO THE CHILDREN AND YOUTH 

sequences of yielding to these temptations, you have 
been sometimes enabled to resist them ; and this has 
afforded you solid peace and satisfaction. 

Thus then, it is evident that you feel within your- 
selves a principle of good and a principle of evil ; 
that when evil presents itself in any form, you know 
it to be such ; and when thus known, a fear and 
dread usually accompanies it. This is the effect of 
the grace of God, or the divine light of Christ within 
you. And as this grace or light is attended to, it 
will always be you preserver ; according to the decla- 
ration of the Apostle Paul, " The grace of God that 
bringeth salvation, hath appeared unto all men ; 
teaching us, that denying ungodliness and worldly 
lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly 
in this present world.'* — Tit. ii. 11. Here then, we 
see the goodness of the Almighty : when any sin, 
which would have been gratifying and pleasing to 
you has presented itself, it has been pointed out to 
you to be sinful ; you have believed it to be so, and 
thus have been warned against falling into the snare 
of the enemy. Your own experience also has already 
taught you, that though in many instances you have 
been preserved, it has not been without great diffi- 
culty ; and that, had you given way to your own 
inclinations, you would have fallen into many grievous 
sins. But it was your Lord and Saviour who so 
tenderly watched over you ; and it is through his 
loving-kindness that you have been so often pre- 
served. Temptation you will perceive is gradual : 
at first evil thoughts present themselves, then evil 
desires ; and if the divine Instructor be not attended 
to, these desires produce evil actions ; which, being 
offensive in the divine sight, occasion those painful 
sensations which the commission of sin leaves on the 



OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 253 

mind. And it is a great favour that sin does leave 
a sting behind, because this leads to repentance. For 
though the Lord has all power in his hands, and sees 
all the evil of your hearts, knows every thought, and 
is acquainted with every sin you commit, and could 
punish those who act contrary to his holy will made 
known in the heart ; yet his love is such, that if 
those who have transgressed, truly and sincerely re- 
pent, and use all their endeavours to avoid sinning 
any more, he will forgive them, and will, for his Son's 
sake, again take them into his favour. How good 
then ought you to be, when you see he deals so kindly 
and tenderly with you ! What an abundant favour it 
is, that he offers you, and will give you, the ability to 
do his will, and thereby to please him ! The more, 
therefore, you attend to his instructions to avoid the 
evil and to choose the good, the more you will expe- 
rience true happiness and peace. Looking at these 
things, I have much desired that you, my dear young 
friends, would ponder them in your hearts, and so 
conduct yourselves as to draw down his favour and 
love ; for as that is the greatest blessing you can 
enjoy, so I am persuaded you cannot do too much to 
obtain it. 

I shall now further endeavour to shew you, how 
you may, by divine assistance, overcome those evil 
propensities of which I have been speaking. It is 
very certain, that there is a secret principle in our 
minds, as I have before said, which points out to us 
what is evil, and teaches us to avoid it. It is to this 
Teacher, I would recommend you to be particularly 
attentive ; because, if it be slighted, though it may 
for a time discover to you what is wrong, yet by con- 
tinual disobedience, you will find, that, instead of 
your growing in grace and in goodness, you will 



254 A LETTER TO THE CHILDREN AND YOUTH 

slide into hardness of heart, and sooner or later bring 
yourselves into great misery and distress. For what 
greater distress can we be brought into, than to see 
and feel, that, having acted contrary to the divine 
will, we have displeased our Heavenly Father ; and 
that our continued evil conduct has left us but little 
hope of gaining his favour any more. Use all your 
endeavours then, to avoid getting into this deplorable 
state. Let the pious resolution of David be yours : 
" I will take heed to my ways that I sin not :" — 
Psal. xxxix. 1, so you will find, that peace and com- 
fort will abound in your hearts. 

The great means of gaining strength to do the 
will of your Father who is in heaven, is to look to 
him for help ; for he alone can give efficacy to your 
exertions. Always live as though you were sensible 
you were immediately in his sight ; and strive to 
pray to him to preserve you ; and consider him as a 
tender parent who loves his children, who is ever 
ready to do them good, and whose will is that they 
should be sensible of his presence, power, and love. 
These dispositions towards your Almighty Protector, 
will increase your desire to follow him wherever he 
may choose to lead you ; they will so clothe your 
minds with divine love, that you will be willing to 
forsake every thing which may be likely to obstruct 
the enjoyment of it, or in other words, to obstruct your 
union with God. You will, on this account, endea- 
vour to avoid thinking of evil, either as to the giving 
way to temptation, or indulging any disposition to 
lying, deceit, envy or ill nature towards any one ; 
you will also know that wanton cruelty, even to the 
most helpless animals, (which are creatures of God's 
making as well as yourselves,) passion, resentment, 
hatred and revenge, are dispositions which proceed 



OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 255 

from your own evil or fallen nature, and will tend 
to separate you from the Giver of all good. It 
is a certain truth that " God is love ; and he that 
dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and God in him." 
— 1 John iv. 8. The youth whose mind is in this 
state, and who is desirous of contemplating the good- 
ness of the Almighty, will feel a sense of gratitude, 
that he has a capacity given him of attaining to that 
most exalted of all enjoyments, a union with his 
Maker. It is therefore our own fault, seeing wc 
are mercifully favoured with the means, if we do 
not avail ourselves of so great a blessing. 

The evil to which I have before adverted, is de- 
clared in Scripture to have arisen from the fall of 
man. The first man, Adam, was created in a state 
of innocence, free from sin. His nature was not 
corrupt, until, by disobeying the divine command, 
he transgressed. In consequence of this he was 
driven out of Paradise, a place of the highest earthly 
happiness ; and instead of continuing to enjoy this 
state of perfection and innocence, he became subject 
to the evil propensities we also feel ; though none 
are condemnable till they have yielded to tempta- 
tion. But although Adam by thus transgressing, 
introduced sin and death into the world, and rendered 
himself an object of divine displeasure ; yet the 
Almighty had compassion on mankind, and appointed 
a way for their salvation, through his Son Jesus 
Christ ; who in due time took upon him our nature, 
and suffered and died for the sins of the world, 
as is at large set forth in many parts of the 
Scriptures. 

The Sacred Writings further shew us, that if we 
are willing to be under the guidance of Jesus Christ, 
we shall be restored to that blessed state from which 



256 A LETTER TO THE CHILDREN AND YOUTH 

Adam fell ; as says the apostle Paul, <c As in Adam 
all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." — 
1 Cor. xv. 22. Also " The first man Adam was 
made a living soul, the last Adam (by which Christ 
is meant) was made a quickening (or life-giving) 
spirit." — ver. 45. 

I shall now quote a few other Scripture testimonies, 
from the Old and New Testament, concerning Jesus 
Christ ; which will shew you the connexion there is 
in the Sacred Writings, and also the advantage there 
is in comparing them together. 

Isaiah, speaking prophetically of the coming of 
Christ, says, " For unto us a child is born, unto us a 
son is given : and the government shall be upon his 
shoulder : and his name shall be called Wonderful, 
Counsellor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, 
The Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his govern- 
ment and peace there shall be no end." — Isa. ix. 6. 
The same prophet, speaking of his death and suffer- 
ings, and of the blessings that would arise from them 
to mankind, as a sacrifice for sinners and as a pattern 
of patience and humility, says, " Surely he hath borne 
our griefs, and carried our sorrows ; he was wounded 
for our transgressions ; the chastisement of our peace 
was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed. All 
we like sheep have gone astray ; we have turned every 
one to his own way ; and the Lord hath laid on him 
the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was 
afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; he was brought 
as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before his 
shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." Read 
the whole of the fifty- third chapter of Isaiah. 

The following show the completion of the foregoing 
declarations ; and that salvation and redemption come 
through Jesus Christ. 



OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 257 

u For unto you is born this day, in the city of 
David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." — Luke 
ii. 11. 

" For God so loved the world, that he gave his only 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should 
not perish, but have everlasting life." — John iii. 16. 

" I am the door. By me if any man enter in, he 
shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find 
pasture." — John x. 9. 

" Neither is there salvation in any other ; for there 
is none other name under heaven given among men, 
whereby we must be saved." — Acts iv. 12. 

" Wherefore, he is able also to save them to the 
uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he 
ever liveth to make intercession for them." — Heb, 
vii. 25. 

" But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God 
is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and 
sanctification, and redemption." — 1 Cor, i. 30. 

" Who his own self bare our sins in his own body 
on the tree, that we being dead to sins should live 
unto righteousness : by w T hose stripes ye were healed." 
—1 Peter ii. 24. 

These few passages of Scripture will shew you the 
foundation of the Christian religion ; and if you are 
willing to attend to the divine law in your hearts, 
your own experience will confirm to you the w r ant 
and necessity of a Saviour, that you may be redeemed 
from your sins. 

And now, my dear young friends, I shall conclude 
this letter with a few observations respecting your 
conduct. 

In the first place, consider that the end and inten- 
tion of your creation is, that you should glorify God, 
which cannot be done, but by doing hi? will. Endea- 



258 A LETTER TO THE CHILDREN AND YOUTH 

vour then to love him above all things ; and that this 
may be the case, consider your religious duties as of 
the highest importance. 

Do not neglect your meetings for worship ; always 
attend them with cheerfulness ; and when there, strive 
in silence to feel after the divine presence to comfort 
and instruct you. Never encourage a thought that 
the time appointed for this or any other religious 
service is misapplied ; for God's all-seeing eye can 
discover every thought as well as action, and whether 
what we do is done grudgingly, or from a love to him ; 
and according to our works so will he deal with us. 

Let the first day of the week be a day of religious 
improvement, and not of idle dissipation. Frequently 
read the Holy Scriptures, particularly on that day : 
they are full of wisdom and instruction : in them 
you will find that Joseph and Samuel were examples 
worthy of imitation, when very young ; for they loved 
the Lord above all things, and he preserved and blessed 
them in an eminent degree. If you read the Sacred 
Scriptures in a right disposition, they will prove a 
confirmation to your faith and hope, a comfort and 
stay to your minds. Never quote them in a light 
manner, or speak lightly of them, or associate with 
those that do. Endeavour, even every day, to read a 
portion of them the first thing in the morning ; and 
afterwards, inwardly and silently retire before the 
Lord, and strive to seek his blessing, that you may 
be preserved from evil during the day. And again 
at night, before you go to rest, endeavour to recollect 
whether something may not have occurred, that has 
been of an evil tendency ; and if such should have 
been the case, humble yourselves before him, and seek 
to be reconciled to him before you go to sleep. 

Read also the writings of those of our own Society, 



OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 259 

in order that you may cultivate an acquaintance with 
the history of Friends and the principles of truth, of 
which you are making profession. In many of them 
you will be much instructed, and also strengthened 
to hold on your way, by observing with what steadi- 
ness and fortitude they bore their testimony for the 
truth ; and some of them even unto death. 

Be careful not to deviate from that plainness and 
simplicity of dress and manners, in which faithful 
Friends have set the example; having themselves 
found preservation and true peace therein. A strict 
attention to this, will be a great means of preventing 
your falling into snares you may be little aware of. 
The want of due care in this respect has lamentably 
paved the way for deep distress, in many instances ; 
and not to the individuals only, but also to their 
families and connexions. 

Thus, my dear young friends, you will be kept in 
the holy love and fear of your Heavenly Father ; and 
as you continue so to act, he will watch over you and 
bless you all your days ; and in the end you will be 
received by him into heaven, there to enjoy unutter- 
able happiness for ever. 

I am your affectionate Friend, 

Frederick Smith. 

London, 20th of Twelfth Month, 1805. 



A LETTER 



TO 

PARENTS AND OTHERS WHO HAVE THE CARE OF YOUTH 

IN THE 

SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 

By FREDERICK SMITH. 



Dear Friends, 

The education of the children of our Society has 
been the subject of my most serious thoughts, and I 
have often and earnestly desired it might be taken 
up by some person whose qualifications would have 
enabled him to do it more justice than I suppose 
myself capable of rendering it ; but no individual 
having stepped forward of late years, to bring into 
view this truly interesting concern, I have ventured 
to throw a few hints together, in order that the 
matter may be deeply considered by those on whom 
rests the care of the rising generation. 

Though I had intended the principal part of what 
I may now communicate for the consideration of 
school-masters, school-mistresses, and other instruc- 
tors of children, yet I feel it a duty to say something 
also to parents. 

It is a complaint which I fear is made with much 
justice, that many parents are too negligent respect- 
ing the religious education and instruction of their 
children ; too careless and inattentive in watching 
over them ; and too little solicitous that the seeds of 



A LETTER TO PARENTS, &C. 261 

those pernicious weeds be destroyed, which, being 
overlooked, spring up into pride, ambition, and irre- 
ligion. Nor are even some of those from whose 
situation in the Society we might have looked for 
more lively care and regard, always exceptions to 
this sorrowful complaint. 

It must be obvious to those who will look impar- 
tially at the outward appearance of our Society, that 
it has lost much of that plainness which distinguished 
our ancestors; and that many of late years have 
shown so increasing a tendency to conformity with 
the world, that were as great alterations progres- 
sively to take place, I fear but few vestiges would ere 
long remain, of that simplicity which the truth leads 
into ; and which has been as a way-mark to many, 
and the means of incalculable preservation to the 
dear youth of both sexes. But I am grieved to add, 
that I apprehend this declension is much to be attri- 
buted to the spiritual weakness and indulgence of 
parents. Having yielded to the youthful inclinations 
of their children, they have paved the way for their 
gradually uniting with the pleasures, fashions, and 
maxims of the world ; which, in their natural conse- 
quence, lead to a total distaste for religious duties — 
a distaste to those very pursuits and employments 
which should yield them the purest delight. Ah ! 
my friends, let us pause awhile, and examine within 
ourselves whether these things are not so ; and 
whether our own peace and the eternal happiness 
of our beloved offspring, are not concerned in our 
immediate endeavour, to check an evil fraught with 
such imminent danger. Our own experience and 
observation must have clearly shown us the great 
advantage of keeping within the safe enclosure ; for 
herein preservation from many hurtful things has 



262 A LETTER TO PARENTS, &C. 

been known. Nay, may it not be said to be one 
means of preparation for the work of the Lord 1 
Let this experience then animate us firmly and 
steadily to restrain those feelings, which tempt us 
to grant to our dear children, liberties that the 
truth will not sanction — feelings which we may be 
assured have only the semblance of true love or true 
affection. 

I believe it will be allowed, that there never 
was a time when it appeared more necessary for 
individuals, in every part of the Society, to be dili- 
gent in endeavouring to build its waste places : and 
perhaps, if this work be rightly set about, it will be 
found, every one must begin in earnest at his own 
house. The evils which we feel may be continually 
deplored ; but lamentation and exclamation will do 
little towards effecting this desirable end. We must 
put shoulder to shoulder, and individually exert 
those powers with which Divine Goodness would not 
fail to supply us. 

The recollection of most who have been favoured 
with truly religious parents, if they look back at 
their early youth, will convince them of the powerful 
influence such had over them ; more especially when 
they laboured to inculcate sentiments of religion and 
virtue. May we not then, dear friends, expect that 
the same effect would be produced by our circum- 
spect walking before our beloved offspring, and thus 
labouring with them. 

The minds of children are tender and susceptible ; 
they feel the force of advice and counsel affectionately 
communicated by those whom they love ; the good 
effects of it are seldom, if ever, totally eradicated ; 
and the ground-work being thus laid by precept 
and confirmed by example, would, I believe, in most 



IN THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 263 

instances, be blessed, sooner or later, to the anxious 
and pious parent. 

A religious education is the richest gift a parent 
can bestow on a child : the want of it can never be 
made up by any wealth it may be in his power to 
leave him. The love of parents never shows itself 
to so great advantage, as when they appear solicitous 
for the religious welfare of their children ; and it is 
remarkable that there are scarcely any persons, even 
of those who are, as to themselves, careless respecting 
this important matter, but who are occasionally 
desirous that the seeds of virtue and goodness may 
be implanted in their children. This desire is ob- 
servable when their children return from school. If 
religious and moral principles are not then apparent in 
them, blame is often attributed to the school-master ; 
when, did the parent look into his own breast, he 
would discover that neither by precept nor example, 
had he taken early pains to encourage those disposi- 
tions, he now perceives would have been peculiarly 
desirable in his child. The situation of a parent 
under such a circumstance, is an awful one; and 
many have found it so, when it has been too late to 
remedy the evil. 

I therefore earnestly desire, that such parents as 
have young children yet uncontaminated, may feel 
a living and constant concern to avoid the danger of 
their children's blood being required at their hands. 

I believe that little more need here be added to 
parents, than the following excellent advices, extracted 
from the Epistles of the Yearly Meeting. 

lt We do with earnestness recommend to all such 
parents as have experienced the gracious dealings of 
the Lord with their own souls, to take all proper 
opportunities of instilling into the minds of their 



264: A LETTER TO PARENTS, &C. 

children, just sentiments respecting the vanity and 
emptiness of fading and transitory enjoyments ; and 
to direct them to seek after that solid peace and 
serenity of mind, which attends the sincere practice 
of true religion and virtue, and which only can afford 
any durable, solid satisfaction." — Epistle, 1745. 

<f And ye parents, be ye solicitous to discharge 
your important and awful duty with scrupulous 
attention. It is often too late to warn the youthful 
mind of danger, when your own negligence or in- 
dulgence hath suffered your offspring to deviate 
from that path of simplicity, in which you have 
thought yourselves bound to walk, and in which you 
have found peace. If you fail to suppress the early 
beginnings of undue liberty, how can you expect a 
blessing on your endeavours when further deviations 
at length arouse your attention ? and how, having 
failed to rule your own houses well, can you expect 
duly to c take care of the church of God/ by per- 
forming that too much neglected duty of private 
admonition therein ? There were of old those who 
brought children to Christ in the days of his flesh ; 
and now, the religious parent can breathe no warmer 
aspiration for them, than when he spiritually com- 
mends his tender offspring to the protection of his 
Lord. But see, Friends, that you encourage no pro- 
pensities in them, which prevent an union with him. 
Eestrain them, we beseech you, from associating with 
those whose influence and example lead away from 
his law ; and be especially careful that you intro- 
duce not among them publications which are, either 
wholly or in part, repugnant to the faith as it is in 
Jesus. Let it be your own daily care to endeavour 
after closer communion with him, and to walk in 
meek submission to his commands : so may you gain 



IN THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 265 

over the minds of the youth provident ally placed 
under your care, that ascendancy which arises from 
the united effects of sound judgment, truest love, and 
a good example. " — Upistle, 1800. 

Now as to those who undertake the tuition of the 
children of others, they have a most serious trust 
committed to them : the real well-being of such 
children greatly depends on their tutors' attention to 
their religious improvement. 

Some parents wish their children to excel in litera- 
ture. To this, simply considered, there can be no 
objection ; but an education ever so brilliant, without 
the more important addition of true religion, is de- 
prived of its greatest excellence ; whereas, with this 
blessed advantage, a man will be rendered a bright 
example, and may become extensively useful. 

Seeing then that the education of children is of so 
much importance, I conceive it is highly desirable 
that those who undertake so weighty a trust as the 
education of the children of others, should themselves 
be u men fearing God," and should engage in it from 
principle. 

Let them make it their first study to live so near 
the Fountain of truth, as to be able rightly to instruct 
them in their relation to their Creator, and their 
consequent necessary and positive duty to him ; and 
also in the doctrine of salvation through Jesus Christ. 
Their minds being thus imbued with religious reve- 
rence, they would be prepared to receive the further 
opening of counsel, on the benefit of frequent retire- 
ment in spirit, and abstraction from sensible objects ; 
for the renewings of divine favour and strength, to 
withstand temptation to evil, and to qualify them to 
look up to the Lord, and love him as the Fountain 
of all their blessings. 



266 A LETTER TO PARENTS, &C. 

Religion, when thus properly implanted, would, 
with the divine blessing, become habitual ; or at least 
such a foundation would be laid, that, though some 
of the youth might be so unwise as to swerve from its 
wholesome and salutary dictates, they might after- 
wards, like the repentant prodigal, retrace their 
mistaken steps, might look towards their Heavenly 
Father's house in great self-abasement, and through 
divine mercy, experience restoration. On the contrary, 
young persons who have been neglected, and have 
never known any religious instruction, either from 
parents or tutors, seem in a most deplorable state ; 
and will have good reason to reflect upon those whoso 
first business ought to have been, to instil the prin- 
ciples of true Christianity into their minds. 

that those who engage in the education of the 
youth among us, were firm in all their proceedings 
respecting them ; and would, as much as in them lies, 
avoid running the hazard of their school becoming 
contaminated, out of favour or affection to any negli- 
gent parents, by permitting loose examples, either in 
manners, dress, or address, inconsistent with our holy 
profession ! If a stand in this respect were made, I 
am persuaded much advantage to the rising generation 
would result from it. Those who, from a principle 
of duty, endeavour to preserve this order in their 
establishments, will, I believe, find abundant support 
in the rectitude of their conduct ; nor could those 
parents who had the real welfare of their children at 
heart, reasonably object to the adoption of a plan 
which had the principles of their profession for its 
foundation. 

In addition to this, no books should be introduced 
into a school until perused by the master or mistress ; 
but such books should be provided as tend to convey 



IN THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 267 

instruction to their susceptible minds, in an agreeable 
and alluring manner : always avoiding those which, 
however otherwise instructive, have the least tendency 
to subvert, or even indirectly to attack the truth as it 
is in Christ. 

But above all outward means of instilling religious 
knowledge, do not fail, dear Friends, to make the Sacred 
Volume a frequent object of your children's or your 
pupils' attention. You will find it an advantage to 
have your families daily assembled for the purpose of 
reading a portion of it. In doing this, care should 
be taken, that so much be not read at a time, as to 
prove tedious to young and active minds ; and also 
that attention and a decent stillness of behaviour 
prevail while thus engaged. A moderate pause on 
leaving off, will afford time for digesting what has 
been read, or for indulging such sensations of reve- 
rence as may have been excited ; and if you endeavour 
to keep your minds low, and dependent on heavenly 
instruction, you may sometimes be enabled profitably 
to explain what has occurred that may not appear 
obvious ; or otherwise speak a word in season, and so 
implant some good principle in the youthful breast. 

One day in the week is more especially set apart 
for the purposes of religion. Let that day then, with- 
out lessening their attention to religious duties at 
other times, be appropriated to them ; and let all 
those engagements be excluded which do not comport 
with this practice. 

Some part of what I have been saying, may be in 
degree applicable to those who have the care of youth 
more advanced in years, namely, servants and appren- 
tices. I well know it is sometimes difficult to use 
that restraint towards young people of a lively dispo- 
sition, which nevertheless is really necessary. They 



268 A LETTER TO PARENTS, &C. 

are oftentimes influenced by the example of some of 
their own age, whose parents or others have per- 
mitted them to take undue liberties ; even so much 
so as to abandon that becoming simplicity of manners 
for which we, as a Society, are remarked. But, dear 
Friends, be assured your firm and steady care over the 
youth of this class, will meet with its reward. Only 
reflect on the gratitude thou wouldst feel towards 
that friend, who considered thy child as his own, and 
who, by precept, example, and that restraint which 
arises from love alone, had done all in his power to 
preserve thy child from the contamination of the 
world. 

To conclude. — What occupation in this life can 
be more honourable than theirs, who carefully and 
successfully attend to the religious improvement of 
youth 1 Those who have been thus engaged to fulfil 
their duty, must have a solace in their minds, far be- 
yond any earthly advantage they may reap by their 
outward profession; whilst the sincerest gratitude 
and love, both from the parents and the children, 
cannot but be excited towards them. 

I am your affectionate friend, 

Frederick Smith. 

London, \Zth of First Month, 1806. 



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